Finding A Way Home
by TheREALCarbyLove
Summary: Breaking up is hard to do. Especially when there’s a little something keeping you connected.
1. Aftermath

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Title: Finding A Way Home

Author: Andrea _(CarbyLove@aol.com__)_

Rating: PG-13, but it could change to R at any given time … 

Summary: Breaking up is hard to do. Especially when there's a little something keeping you connected.

Author's Note: I can't stop. I really can't. So anyway, same old story, slightly different twist. Thanks to Catherine and Kelly. PANTYHOSE! to you both.

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Finding A Way Home

Chapter 1: Aftermath 

It's the aftermath of a break-up that hurts the most. At the time, you're too angry, or shocked, or numb to really feel the pain. Later on, without the buffer of overwhelming emotion, it's all there. But maybe it's not so much the aftermath of the break up itself, as of the relationship. The aftermath of loving someone and losing them. When only the memories are left behind. Or, in my case, when the memories are _almost _the only thing that's been left behind.

I open my eyes, and find myself in an otherwise unoccupied bed. An empty bed. The same empty bed I've had to face for weeks now. 

The apartment seems barren and bereft without his belongings. Everywhere I look, I see a place that should hold something of his. His clothes should be draped over the chair in the corner. His comb and wallet should have taken up residence on the top of the dresser when he got undressed for bed. His toothbrush should hang next to mine in the bathroom. His razor should clatter out of the medicine cabinet because he'd shoved it in quick before slamming the door. It used to happen every morning. And every morning I'd curse him for being too lazy to put the damn thing away properly. It's a silly thing to miss. Yet I do miss it. One more reminder that he's gone, gone, gone. 

Looking back on it now, I'm still not sure how it happened. Or why. Maybe we grew apart. Maybe our baggage weighed us down. But whatever the reason, things became strained. And we eventually broke under that strain. The accusations and recriminations flew until all that was left was a stony silence. And then it just seemed like too much to overcome. 

__

"Maybe we just need some time apart." He'd said. "Some time to think. To figure out where we are."

I'd nodded silently, miserably, unable to say what I was feeling. He was leaving me. Again. He'd once promised he wasn't going anywhere. And for the first time in my life I actually believed those words. Stupid, really. I should have known better. As I watched him walk out the door, his personal belongings hastily shoved into a bag, I'd known that no matter how gently he'd tried to break it to me, this was it. No matter what possibility of a future he spoke of, I knew. His actions belied his words. He collected his stuff and moved out of my apartment. And out of my life. 

Probably it was my fault. It usually is. Maybe if I'd opened up to him sooner, maybe if I'd made him open up to me. But I didn't. And now it's too late. All I'm left with is a bunch of maybes and what ifs. Well, maybe that's not exactly all I'm left with.

But I can't think about that now. I won't think about it now. Who am I kidding? It's all I think about. All I have thought about for weeks. It tortures me relentlessly. Murders sleep. Butchers whatever peace of mind I have left. But I try my best to bury it. Not to think about it. Not today, anyway. Tomorrow. Definitely tomorrow. Maybe tomorrow. I think I hate that word -- 'maybe.' Maybe, maybe, maybe … I swear it follows me into my dreams. _Maybe_ it would be better if I just knew. At least that would stop one 'maybe.' 

Ugh, I can't deal with this now. Get a grip, Abby. You're already late for work. And sitting around ruminating about the sad state of your life won't get you there any faster. 

I bypass the kitchen on my way out the door. After a brief survey that has become part of my daily routine -- the nausea meter, I like to call it -- I decide I'm better off navigating the El on an empty stomach this morning. I can get something at work. _Maybe. _

I get to work late, of course. But to be honest, I think I prefer that. It gives me an excuse to avoid everyone while I rush around trying to get ready to start the day.

"I'm late. I'm late." I say every time someone approaches me. Choice words. They remind me of that which I'm trying so desperately t ignore. Not _now_, Abby. Just work. Don't think. 

The 'just work' philosophy gets me through the morning. Must be my lucky day -- Carter seems to be off. One less thing to worry about. Susan, however, is very much at work. And call me crazy, but I think she's trying to corner me. I manage to slip away from her until lunch rolls around. 

She plops down at the table where I'm sitting nibbling at my dry toast and sipping at my milk. Another gourmet meal. 

"Okay, Abby," she says. "Spill it."

"What?" She gives me a look.

"What's going on with you?" No, no. Not now. Wait, she can't mean that. Of course she doesn't mean that.

"What do you mean?"

"Don't play dumb with me." Damn, that was my plan. "Look, Abby, I know you're upset about the break-up, but it'll be okay. I know things don't look good now, but you two … you'll work it out. You always do." 

"I don't think so, Susan. Not this time. It's different this time."

"What's so different?"

"Well, for one thing, there's the whore. I hardly think Carter is pining away for me, when he's got some new hot little number."

"Abby …" 

"Don't tell me you're gonna defend her." 

"Of course not. I barely know her. And you hate her, so I have to hate her too."

"Okay, good. Just so we're clear."

"But Carter, on the other hand -"

"Don't you dare defend him either. My God, my side of the bed was barely cold before he took up with that slut. I thought Luka was bad, but I think Carter beat him on the whole 'who can replace Abby fastest' thing." 

"Oh, Abby, it's not like that. "

"It isn't."

"Well I don't think anything's going on. Not really. I mean, I think they're friends, that's about it."

I laugh a bitter little laugh. "Yeah, Carter and I were 'friends' once too." 

"Yeah, and Carter and I are friends. That's never bothered you. Hell, Carter and I _dated_. And as you well know, nothing happened between us … so why couldn't it be the same way with her?" I give her a look that I hope denotes the depth of skepticism. "Look, Ab, I think he's just lonely. I think he misses you more than he's willing to admit. Or maybe even more than he realizes." 

"Fine, he wants a friend. But why her? Why some trashy newbie nursey? Why not you or Chen or even Luka? I swear he's doing it to try and get to me."

"Well, maybe he is. Maybe he wants you back, and he doesn't know how to say it."

"Ha. He was the one who thought we needed 'some time apart.' He's the one who kept walking away and coming back, just to walk away again. And he's the one who decided to leave this time."

"All the more reason not want to come crawling back. Maybe he's waiting for a sign from you." 

"Maybe he can kiss my ass." 

"Well, as long as you're not angry and bitter." 

I laugh in spite of myself. Yeah, I guess I am angry. And bitter. On top of sad and depressed. Throw in a handful of scared shitless and freaked out and it perfectly describes my state of mind.

"Look, Abby, I know it's hard. But I can't stand seeing what this is doing to you. Look at you. Dark circles under your eyes, you look exhausted. You're cranky and irritable all the time. And look at what you're eating for lunch -- toast. You can't eat, you can't sleep. This whole break-up isn't just making you heartsick, it seems to be making you physically sick. It's been what? A month? You can't go on like this. I know what you need." Yeah, I need a lot of things. I wonder which one Susan has in mind. "You need a girls' night out." 

"A girls' night out is the _last_ thing I need. Thanks for the thought, but really, I -"

"Then a girls' night in. I'll rent some trashy movies, pick up a pizza … we can sit around all night trading horror stories about the rotten jerks we've had the 'pleasure' to call our boyfriends. It'll be great. What do you say?" 

What do I say? Well, what I really want is to crawl into a hole and die, but since that's not likely to happen, I figure I may as well take Susan up on her offer. After all, if I don't, she'll just keep bugging me until I do. 

"Okay." I say finally. 

"Great. Then I'll see you at your place around 7." She grabs her cup of coffee and heads back to work, leaving me to ponder the wisdom of letting her rope me into this. It's getting so I can't even enjoy a good depression around this place anymore. 

And when Susan appears that evening, it seems that, yes indeed, she is intent on breaking me out of my funk. She brings with her a huge stack of tasteless, offensive, stupid comedies and what is perhaps the biggest pizza in Chicago.

"Okay," she announces with way too much jubilation in her voice, "Time to get this girls night in underway."

I grab the roll of paper towels that will serve as our plates and napkins and plop down on the couch next to Susan. She opens the lid on the pizza box. And I promptly bounce back up off the couch and bolt toward the bathroom. The mixture of strong smells from the loaded pizza was enough to make me lose the never-ending battle with the nausea. Somewhere in the middle of tossing my cookies, Susan slips into the bathroom with me and kneels next to me holding my hair back. Once my stomach is empty I flush the toilet and slump back against the tub. Susan hands me a damp washcloth and a glass of water. 

"Slow sips." She instructs, studying me. 

"Sorry." 

"Don't worry about it." She gives me a reassuring smile before her look turns to one of concern. She knows. Knows what I've been trying so hard not to let myself believe, even though I know it's true. And have known it's true for awhile now. Ah, the power of denial. But I'll have to face it now, Susan's not pulling any punches. "How far along are you?"

I take a deep breath. I could give her an exact count, practically down to the minute. But I settle for saying "Seven weeks." 

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know for sure."

"But you just said -"

"Because if I am … pregnant, I know when it happened."

"_How_ did it happen?"

"The usual way." I tell her with a little chuckle. "We just … got careless. Carried away. What can I say, it was the middle of the night. I was half asleep, he was desperately horny, and before I knew it -- oops. I was going to ask him for a script for the morning after pill, but …"

"What?"

"Well, the morning after, things got kinda nuts. Everything just boiled to the surface. And I guess with all that was going on, I kinda forgot. And as crazy as it sounds, I forgot all about it. For weeks, in fact." 

"Wait … seven weeks ago? That's when it happened? But I thought you guys broke up before that?" 

"I thought we did too. Things had been kinda tense for awhile. And I really thought it was over. But then one night, there he was. We had that one night together, and I thought everything was going to be okay. I should have kicked him out. But I didn't. I thought it was a new beginning for us. But it's more like it was the beginning of the end. Things were already strained. And they just went from bad to worse. And then he couldn't take it anymore, and he left. Can't say as I blame him."

"Have you told him?"

"Susan … I couldn't even admit it to myself until now. First I told myself I was just upset over the break-up. One day I was particularly sick, and I convinced myself it must have been something I ate. And now I've had a touch of the flu for the past couple weeks. Denial is a wonderful thing." I say ruefully.

"So you haven't taken a test?"

"So it can tell me what I already know?"

"Abby. You need to know for sure." 

"I know. Denial may have kept me from taking the test, but it didn't stop me from buying one. It's in the cabinet." 

She retrieves it and studies the directions. "Okay, looks pretty simple. You wanna take it now?"

"No time like the present, I guess." Susan leaves me to do my thing, and in a few minutes I've joined her on the couch, leaving the test stick on the bathroom counter. "I set the kitchen timer." I tell her. 

She nods. "So what do you want to do now?"

"Eat. I'm starving." She gives me a look as a reach for the cold pizza and start chomping away. 

"Good thing I didn't throw that away, after all. I thought I would get rid of the offending object, but I guess you're glad that I didn't."

"Well, I told you, I'm starving. I just puked up the contents of my stomach." 

"Yeah, I remember. But how can you eat now what made you sick half an hour ago?"

I shrug. "Morning sickness works in mysterious ways, I guess." 

"You really think you're pregnant?" 

I nod. Now that I can't deny it any longer, there's really no doubt in my mind. I've known all along, I just didn't want to know. "I skipped my period last month and I'm already late for this month, so …"

"But Abby…" 

She doesn't have to finish the thought. If I was aware of it, why didn't do anything about it? "Like I said, denial. You'd be surprised at how deep you can bury something you don't want to know. Even when you already know." Another shrug. "Maybe I was just hoping that by the time I found out for sure -" 

I stop abruptly, not wanting to finish the rest of the thought out loud. What was I hoping? That it would be so late that an abortion would be out of the question? That the decision would already be made for me by then? That I'd be teetering on the brink of the second trimester and could tell myself that I had no choice but to have the baby because I wouldn't be comfortable with an abortion at that point? But that never would have happened. Somewhere, deep down, I knew what was going on and would have had to face it before it got to that point. 

"Hoping what?" Susan asks.

"I don't know. That it would all just go away, I guess." 

"It doesn't work that way. You … aren't exactly hoping it's positive, I take it." 

I'm about to answer her when the timer sounds in the kitchen. I take a deep breath before heading to the kitchen to turn off the timer and then to the bathroom to face my fate. I return to the living room with the test in my hand.

"Well?" Susan looks at me expectantly.

I nod. "I'm pregnant." What a shock. 

"Oh, Abby. You're gonna have a baby." She smiles happily, her face showing her excitement.

A baby? I can't believe it. Just like I suspected. He walked out of my life, but he left something behind. A baby. Our baby. For a moment, I let myself get lost in the dream. The dream where I have our baby. And even though Carter and I are over, some piece of us would always live on. I would have a part of him with me all the time. A baby that was his and mine. If I can't have him, at least something good -- no something wonderful -- would grow from what we had. I'd have something to show for having loved him. The thought warms my heart, but the happiness is short lived. It's a nice dream, but that's all it is. 

I can't have a baby. I just can't. No matter how much I may wish I could, it's not meant to be. 

"Actually …" I tell Susan, "No, I'm not." 

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*~*~*~*

Author's Note: Yeah, I know … I told you, same old story. I know_ everyone writes stories about Abby being pregnant. But I can't help what everyone else does. Okay, I have two other stories going where Abby's pregnant. What can I say, I feel the need to explore all the different possibilities, and I wanted to try my hand at a slightly more angsty version. For some reason, it's an issue that just begs to be written about. I wonder why? It couldn't the 400 random baby anvils we've seen on the actual show, could it? _


	2. A Shoulder To Cry On

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Title: Finding A Way Home

Author: Andrea

Rating: PG-13 (for the moment, anyway)

Summary: Um, it's only chapter 2. If you can't remember, go back and read chapter 1 again. 

Author's Note: Thanks for the interactive editing, Cath. 

~*~*~*~

Finding A Way Home

Chapter 2: A Shoulder to Cry On

"What ?" Susan asks. "But I thought you just said it was positive."

I take a deep breath. She's not gonna make this easy on me, I guess. "It is positive. I'm pregnant. I'm just not going to have a baby." I flop back down on the couch and look over at her. 

It takes a moment for it to sink in. And when it does, I watch her face change. From joyful excitement to sad and concerned. "Oh, Abby … you can't mean that." 

I close my eyes and concentrate on my breathing. I'm not going to cry, I'm not going to cry. I can't let her see me cry. I have to convince her. I have to convince myself. "I do mean it, Susan. It's the only way. I can't have a baby."

"Why can't you?" Susan asks. She seems genuinely confused. 

"I just … can't. It's … complicated."

"Complicated how? Because you two broke up?"

"No." That's the last of my worries. Of course if we were still together maybe … "I don't know. Yes. Maybe. But it's not just that. I …" I trail off, not knowing where to start or how to explain it. Not really wanting to talk about it.

"What? You don't want a baby? You don't want to be a mother?" Tell her yes. Just say 'yep, that's it exactly' and get on with things. But I can't do that. I can't lie to her. And she'd see through it anyway. She's just like Carter, she can read me no matter how hard I try to close off all my thoughts and emotions. "Don't even try to tell me that. I won't believe it for a second." 

I give her a sad little smile. "It's not a case of want, Susan. Sometimes there are things we want that we just can't have."

"But you can, Abby. You can have it." I just shake my head. "Are you afraid that Carter wouldn't want it? Is that what this is about?" 

"Well, I don't think he'd exactly be jumping for joy. I mean, considering the circumstances." 

"What circumstances?"

"Oh, I don't know Susan … maybe the fact that he left me. And for some two-bit tramp at that. He's happier without me. He's better off without me. And I'm sure the last thing he would want is me barging back into his life saying, 'Surprise!'"

"You're wrong, Abby. Carter would be thrilled."

"This was a mistake, Susan. It wasn't something that we planned. It wasn't something that either of us wanted."

She gives me a long, contemplative look. "Except I think it _is_ something you both want." 

"No." I shake my head slightly. "No, it's not. It's a nice little fantasy, but in reality it would be a disaster. Having this baby would be an even bigger mistake than getting pregnant in the first place." If that's so true, why does stomach reel every time I think about what I'm going to have to do? I almost can't stand to think the word. Abortion. Again. I promised myself I would never put myself in a position to have to go through that again, and yet, here I am. 

"What would be the disaster? That you'd have a beautiful baby? That you'd be somebody's mommy? That Carter would be your baby's father? None of that sounds so bad to me."

"I can't, Susan. It wouldn't be fair." 

"Fair? Fair to who? To Carter? Listen, Abby … I really don't think that he would react the way you think. And even if he did, so what? Fuck him."

"Uh, Susan? I already did. That's what got me into this mess, remember?" It's a sad attempt at a joke. But the fact is, I really don't want Susan trying to convince me to do something that I'm already very tempted by myself. But I can't give in to that temptation. It wouldn't be right. What I want isn't important. I have to do what's right. I don't even know for sure what it is that I want. But I do know what the right thing to do is. It's for the best. 

"You know what I mean, Abby. Look, if this is something you want, then you should go for it. Don't worry about what Carter thinks. Not that I think he'd be upset, but even if he was, too bad. He was there, it's his responsibility as much as yours. And I'm sure he'll live up to it. I can't imagine that there's any way that he wouldn't want to be involved in his child's life; I'm sure he'd want to be there for every diaper change. Why wouldn't he? He loves you. And any child that you give him? He'd be head over heels for the kid. And of course he'd want to be there for every single moment. But even if he didn't, certainly helping out financially wouldn't be a problem. You could do it on your own if you had to. You wouldn't have to, I'm sure, but even if you did … well, you'd always have me … and all your friends." 

"Thanks, Sus. I appreciate the support. But I'm not gonna do that to him. He made his choice perfectly clear. He wants nothing to do with me." 

"First off, Abby, that's not true. Whatever may be going wrong between you guys, he loves you. I have no doubt about that. And secondly, even if things didn't work out between the two of you, this is his child."

"And it's mine too."

"Yeah. So?"

"So … if I have his baby, for the rest of his life, he's stuck with me. And my bastard. Kinda ruins the whole white picket fence routine, wouldn't you say? I know what Carter wants. And it's not this." Carter wants is a simple, uncomplicated, chaos-free life. A life with some kind of guarantee attached to it. He wants to know where he's going. He wants the perfect wife, the perfect kids, the perfect family. I always knew it was just a matter of time until he left me for someone who could give him the life he wants. Something that I would never be able to give him. Having this child, whose conception was the result of one careless mistake, will ruin all his dreams. Ruin that perfect life he wants so much. And I can't do that. I won't do it. It would only end up hurting me more. Hurting him. And never mind about the poor kid who would be hurt most of all. Not to mention be so unlucky as to get stuck with me for its mom. And without the benefit of having its father around to make up for my numerous deficiencies, the kid would be totally screwed.

"Abby …" Susan's voice is gentle and soothing. "What Carter wants … is you. And once he finds out about this baby, he's gonna want that too." 

"He's not gonna find out about the pregnancy." 

"What? You have to tell him." 

"No, actually, I don't. And I'm not going to. Why should I? To what end? It would just hurt him. And what you don't know can't hurt you. He's better off being left in the dark." 

"He has a right to know. It's his baby too."

"How many times do I have to say it?" I'm practically yelling now. "There is no baby. There's an embryo. A pregnancy. But no baby. And there isn't going to be a baby! I'm getting an abortion!" 

To my horror, my voice cracks on the word 'abortion' and before I know it, a sob breaks loose. And it's like a break in a dam. I can't stop the tears. I bury my head in my hands and wish that I could just disappear. I wanted to make Susan believe that I had no doubts. That I was okay with it. I can't believe how weak I'm being, and I hate it. Hormones, I tell myself, that's why I can't stop the tears. It has nothing to do with being brokenhearted over this pregnancy and its inevitable end. It's just the hormones. I hate that I'm crying like a little girl, and in front of Susan no less. And I can't seem to stop. 

I feel Susan's arms wrap around me and she pulls me to her, pushing my head down onto her shoulder. She brushes my hair back from my face and rocks me gently, whispering in a soothing tone. She's really good at this comforting shit. _She_ should be a mother. For a minute I get a crazy idea about having the baby and giving it to Susan. Maybe she and Carter would give it another whirl, since I know that she's right about Carter wanting to be near his child. It's perfect. The man I love and my best friend can raise my baby. And I can just move to Brazil or something. 

Of course I know it would never work. Giving up this baby now will be hard enough. But after nine months of it growing inside of me, giving birth, and seeing, hearing and touching a real live child, I'm not sure I'd have the strength to give it up. Even to its own father. Even if it was for the baby's own good. I guess I'm not that selfless. See, not cut out to be a mother. 

These thoughts only make the tears flow that much stronger. Susan doesn't let go. She just hugs me tight and waits for the sobs to subside. 

"Maybe you need to think about this some more, Abby." She says when I finally quiet down.

"All I've done for weeks is think about this." My voice sounds hollow and defeated. Much the way I feel inside.

"What happened to being in denial?"

"Well, that too. But I always knew. Somewhere deep down. I think I knew the night it happened. Then I managed to push it away for a couple weeks. But as soon as I was late, I knew. I tried my best to deny it, and was pretty successful. But there were still moments when I couldn't help but think about it. It was just there all the time, you know? But I didn't want to face it. Because I knew all along what I'd have to do." 

"But you don't have to do it, Abby. Not if you don't want to."

"Yes, I do. I'm just not meant … to be a mother. I can't even begin to count all the myriad of ways that I would screw up some poor defenseless baby. I don't know the first thing about being a mother."

"You don't have to. That's what maternal instincts are for. You'll take one look at your baby, and you'll know exactly what to do. Besides, I've seen you with kids in the ER. You're a natural."

"It's different when it's your own."

"Yeah, it's easier." I give her a dubious look. I don't know about that. When it's your own, you can't give them back. And you're the one who has to make all the decisions. I can't even make the right decisions for my own life, how can be responsible for someone else's? "You know, when they're your own, you just love them so much. Look, Abby … everybody has doubts. Everybody worries that they won't be good enough. I know I did." I give her a questioning look. 

"With Susie, my niece." She explains. "My sister left her with me when she was just a baby. I thought she'd left her for good. So for all intents and purposes, I became her mother. I was so worried that I was totally inadequate that I almost put her up for adoption. But in the end, I realized that nobody's perfect. You just gotta love them. And do the best you can. And usually everything turns out just fine. Hell, Susie's turned out pretty good, and that's even with my sister raising her. Believe me if she can do it, anyone can. And you're not just anyone Abby. You'd be great."

"I don't know. I just don't think it's the right thing to do." I tell her. 

"When I first found out Chloe was pregnant, I thought she should have an abortion. I was sure that was the right thing to do. Even for the baby. I didn't think any child deserved to be brought into the fucked-up fantasy world that my sister lives in most of the time. But now I can't imagine the world without Susie in it. It just goes to show you that you never how things are going to turn out. And how something wonderful can come out of something that seems like a tragedy. Abby, having this baby would change your life. And only for the better. It could turn out to be the best thing that's ever happened to you."

"Yeah, or it could turn out to be the worst. I couldn't live with knowing that I went ahead and did this in spite of my child's uncertain future. I don't think I could stand to watch my child suffer because it got stuck with a lousy mom. I couldn't stand to watch my child suffer because its parents can't get it together. And I know that I couldn't stand to watch my child suffer because I gave it the same disease that's ruined my family. I just can't take that chance. It's not worth the risk. I can't do it. Not to myself, not to Carter, and especially not to a baby."

"Abby -"

"Look, Susan, I know you're trying to help, but I know what I have to do."

"Abby, just do me a favor, okay? Think about it. Just give yourself a week, or even a few days, to make sure. Because you can't take it back, and the consequences …" Her voice trails off, but I already know about the consequences all too well. Not something I'm looking forward to, but what choice do I have? 

"Abby? Abby?" I realize Susan's said something else to me, but I guess I missed it.

"Huh?"

"I said you look exhausted, maybe you should get some sleep."

"Yeah, I guess so." I sound dazed and confused even to my own ears. Susan looks at me for a minute, like she's trying to make up her mind about something. And then she gets up and begins puttering around my apartment, putting the pizza away, shutting off lights, locking up. "What are you doing?" I ask as she locks the front door. 

"Locking the door."

"Oh. Wouldn't it be better if I do that after you leave?"

"I'm staying." 

"Susan … you don't have to do that." 

"I know, but I gonna do it anyway."

"I'm not gonna jump off the roof or anything, I'll be fine on my own."

"I know that. But I'm still gonna stay."

"Susan, really, I …"

"Jesus, Abby … would you just accept some …comfort for once? I know you don't really want to be alone right now." Like I said, she can read me just like Carter can. Of course I don't really want to be alone. This is going to seem a lot scarier once she's gone. 

"Okay." I say. "You can have Carter's side of the bed. The couch isn't very comfortable." 

"Trying to get me into your bed already, huh Abby?" 

I smile my first real smile in what seems like a long time. Then I roll my eyes. "I promise not to try anything funny while you're sleeping."

"You'll wake me up first?" I roll my eyes again. Apparently Susan decides that I'm not any kind of threat as a sexual predator and follows me into the bedroom where we're soon settled in for the night. We lie there for a while forgetting my troubles by comparing recent crazy patients and trading the latest hospital gossip.

"This is just like slumber party." Susan says after a while. 

"Yeah, some party. Besides, I think you need more than two for it to be a slumber party."

"Okay, a sleepover then. Just like the sleepovers that I used to have with my best-friend-of-the-week when I was a kid. God, those were always so much fun. I haven't had a sleepover since the sixth grade." I turn my head to look at her and she catches my eye. "Well, okay … maybe a different kind of sleepover." We giggle at that. 

"Susan?" I ask after a moment.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

"And Susan?"

"Yeah?"

"I'll think about it." 

"Good. That's good, Abby." She gives me a big smile. I return it with a tentative one of my own. "Good night," she says as she turns over onto her side away from me. 

"'Night." I say, as I stare up at the ceiling. I find my hand almost involuntarily drifting down to my stomach. I can't help but think of the little life, the potential baby, that's in there. I think about everything that Susan said. I think about all my worst fears coming true. I think about that chance, however slight it might be, that things could actually work out. But then I realize all over again that it could never happen. My dreams of motherhood are so close, but yet feel farther away than ever. It's not meant to be, I tell myself. I feel the tears slip quietly down my cheeks at the thought. I quickly brush the tears away and then squeeze my eyes shut, waiting for the relief, however temporary, that only sleep will bring. 


	3. Sick

__

Title: Finding A Way Home

Author: Andrea

Rating: PG-13 

~*~*~*~

Finding A Way Home

Chapter 3: Sick

I don't have to see her or hear her voice to know she's near. I'm in the middle of a trauma, bent over a patient, working on a difficult intubation when the very air in the room seems to change. Abby's here. 

The patient is a train wreck. No sooner do we take care of one problem, than we find another. Plus, the guy doesn't smell too good. Nothing quite like the combination of garbage and whiskey to create a unique cologne. 

I'm watching Abby surreptitiously as we go through the motions. I watch her all the time. It's a habit I can't seem to break myself of, even now. Especially now. Nothing is ever simple between us. No matter what, I feel myself gravitating towards her. Thinking about her. Wondering about her. Watching her. 

And I notice that she's been different lately. Well it only makes sense that things should be different--strained--between the two of us now. I asked for some time and space … for me to get my head together and for her to figure out what she wants. And she didn't take it too well. So I guess I can't expect her to be anything more than civil to me. I can't blame her for being a bit standoffish with me. But it seems like something more is going on with her. Lately she's been sullen and moody. Even more so than when we first … separated. I worry because she seems so withdrawn and quiet. I know she's probably upset about what's going on with us, but still … these past couple weeks she's been so distracted that it's beginning to interfere with her work. Much like now. There's a million and one things she should be doing for the patient, but instead she's standing stock still, staring into space.

"Abby? Abby!" She finally looks up at me. And she doesn't look very good. Kinda green. "Abby? You okay?" 

She slowly backs away from the patient on the gurney. "I …I … oh, God." She says as she turns and grabs an emesis basin just as she begins throwing up. As soon as she stops, she looks up at me, a look of horror on her face. And then she flees the trauma room. 

This is a first, in my experience. Abby getting sick in the middle of a trauma? And this particular, run of the mill kind of stabbing isn't the sort of the thing that seems likely to produce such a reaction from her. She's seen far worse and not batted an eye. She must be sick. I should go check on her. The patient next door is getting rolled off to surgery, so I call Susan in to take over for me so that I can go after Abby.

I figure the logical place to start would be the ladies' room. It presents a problem, of course, being that the ladies' room is for … well, ladies. Nevertheless, I knock on the door, and push it open a crack.

"Hello?" No answer. "Abby?" I hear a toilet flush and push my way into the room. Abby comes out of the stall and moves over to the sink. Making a point to ignore me. I catch her eye in the mirror.

"Feeling any better?" I ask. She shrugs. I look at my watch. "I'm off now. I can give you a ride home." 

She turns and looks at me for a moment before she starts speaking. "I'm on for another four hours." 

"Abby, you're sick. You need to go home."

"I'm fine. I'll be fine." 

"You'll infect all the patients. You need to go home." 

"I'm not sick, Carter." 

"Is it something you ate? You want some Compazine?"

"No, it's not food poisoning. It's not the flu. It's … nothing. But I'm fine. I'm not sick."

"Well then what do you call it? You never just throw up. So it must be something." She just glares in my direction before pushing past me and out the door. 

And then I get it. All at once it hits me. All the pieces fit together. I take off after Abby, intending to confront her, but then think better of it. Instead I storm into the lounge and yank my locker open, grabbing my stuff and slamming the locker shut again.

"Geez, Carter. Let the locker live, would you?" Susan. Of course. I just level a look at her. "Something wrong?" 

"I can't believe she'd do this!" I note the startled look on Susan's face. 

"Who?" She asks as if she already knows. 

"Abby."

"She told you?" Now she really sounds surprised. 

"She didn't have to tell me anything. I'm not stupid, I figured it out." 

"You did?" She looks skeptical.

"Yeah. I should have seen it before. The way she's been acting. Remote, irritable, kind of out of it. Sometimes she seems half asleep. Dazed. And then today she up and barfs in the middle of a trauma. I mean, my God. It's disgusting." Really, I can't believe that Abby would do this. Again. And that she'd be so unprofessional as to let it affect her work. It must be pretty serious this time. 

"And that leads you to believe … what?" 

"Well, isn't it obvious Susan? She's drinking again."

"You think she threw up because she was drunk?"

"Well, hung over anyway. I mean, at first I thought she was just sick. You know, the flu. But she insists that she's not sick and it's not food poisoning. And she certainly wasn't willing to talk to me about it. So it makes sense. She's hung over and doesn't want me to know."

"Oh boy. You are so wrong. She's not drinking again. Believe me. Not that you didn't give her more than enough reason to want to drown her sorrows. But in spite of that, she's managed to avoid the temptation. She's stronger than you think." 

I study Susan for a moment. "How do you know she's not drinking?"

"I just … know. Trust me. She wasn't hung over." Susan looks like she wants to say something more, but she doesn't. 

If Abby's really not drinking again and it's not a simple stomach bug, then what's going on? A knot of fear settles in my stomach as I realize that something could be very wrong.

"Susan? You know something don't you?" She looks at me but doesn't answer. "Is Abby sick? I mean, really sick? She said she was fine but …" 

"No," Susan says quickly. "She's not … sick." 

"But something's going on, right? And you know what it is." She doesn't answer, but she really doesn't have to. "Susan? Please. Tell me what's wrong with Abby." I hear the note of begging in my voice. But really, I have to know that she's okay. I just … have to know. 

"Nothing's wrong with Abby. She's … okay." I don't like Susan hesitating like that. There's more to this. And I want to know it is.

"Dammit, Susan! Tell me what's going on!" She looks a little stunned, and I realize that not only was I shouting at her, but I've also got a pretty good grip on her arm. I let her go and apologize. "Sorry …it's just … this is Abby. I have to know if there's something going on with her. And with the way she's been acting lately … " 

"Maybe she's just upset about the break-up."

"It wasn't a break-up." 

She raises her eyebrows at me. "Oh really. Then what do you call it?"

"Not a break-up. Just a break. A time out."

"Uh-huh. Maybe you should try telling Abby that. She's got a decidedly different point of view." 

"She thinks we're over? For good?" Susan nods. "I told her I just needed some time. I … No wonder she won't talk to me. But even if she thinks that there's no chance for us, that doesn't explain … " The look on Susan's face makes me think that there's still more going on here than meets the eye. "There's something else going on here, though, isn't there? 

Susan sighs. Gives me a look somewhere between pity and exasperation. She seems to being debating something with herself. Finally she says, "There's something going on all right." 

"What?"

"I … can't tell you." 

"Susan … please?" 

"I can't, Carter. I'm sorry. She'd never forgive me." I nod in understanding. I don't want Susan to betray a confidence, but I need to know what's going on. "Of course, if you were to happen to guess …" 

"Guess? What? Are we gonna play Twenty Questions?" 

"Think about it, Carter. Just think about it. You were putting all the pieces together, you just came up with the wrong picture." She looks at me significantly, only I'm not sure what I'm supposed to be getting out of it. "Just think about what you know." 

"Well, Abby's been acting kinda funny lately. Moody and distant."

"Maybe like something's bothering her? Like she might be worried about something."

"Well, yeah, but I guess I figured she was upset about us … you know like you said. But then today she threw up."

"Uh-huh."

"And she was acting so strange about it … well, it seemed like she was hiding something."

"So you thought she was drinking again."

"Yeah. But she's not?"

"No. That's not why she was nauseous. It wasn't a hangover. It was … something else." I give her a look that's probably about as blank as my mind is at the moment. Not alcohol. Not a stomach flu. Not food poisoning. Not some weird illness. Some sort of medication with adverse side effects? 

"For God's sake, Carter, am I going to have to draw you a picture?" Well, yeah, that would be nice. "Think about it. You're a doctor. Pretend she's patient. _Woman_ in her thirties complaining of _nausea, mood swings, irritability, exhaustion _ … what would you do?"

"Well, for a patient, I'd probably run a pregnancy test. But this is Abby, and she's not …" I stop talking when I see the look on Susan's face. The look reads 'ding ding ding.' "No … she's not … she couldn't be …" Susan shrugs as she gets up and heads to the door.

"You didn't hear it from me, but if I were you, I'd talk to her. Soon. Real soon." 

Real soon? Well now, what's that supposed to mean? I don't understand. But then I don't understand any of this. It all seems unbelievable. Abby? Pregnant? How is that possible? And wouldn't she have told me? Of course she would have told me. Unless, it's not … no, impossible. It's crazy. This whole thing is crazy. And sitting here any longer is going to make me crazy. I have to find her and talk to her. I drop my stuff on the table and rush out into the ER, on a mission. Luckily I find her alone in an exam room, cleaning up after the most recent patient. I lock the door behind me and plant myself in front of it. She's not getting out and no one else is getting in.

"Abby." She turns and looks at me. 

"Go away, Carter." Well isn't that nice? I guess she's not in the mood to talk. I was going to just confront her point blank, but now I think better of the idea and try a different approach.

"No, I'm not going away. I've been thinking about it. You really need to go home." 

"I don't need to go home."

"Sure you do. You're sick."

"I'm not sick."

"You threw up. You're sick."

"I'm _not_ sick." She's getting irritated now. Good, that was the plan.

"Of course you're sick. You wouldn't have thrown up if you weren't sick."

"Dammit, Carter. I'm not _sick_." 

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not." 

"Abby, why won't you just admit you're sick?"

"Because I'm not."

"Then why did you get sick, if you're not sick?" She just looks at me, but I can see she's fuming and fed up with this whole conversation. "See? There's no other explanation. So you must be sick. Come on, I'll take you home." I take her elbow and try to guide her toward the door. 

"What's wrong with you?" Yelling at me. "How many times to have to tell you I'm fine? I'm not sick!"

"Of course you are. Maybe we should run some tests. Do a complete work up. You know, just in case."

"Not necessary."

"Of course it is. Something could be really wrong."

"It's not, I'm fine."

"How do you know? There must be a reason you're sick."

"Not sick."

"Now come on Abby , you know you're sick." 

"No. I'm. Not."

"You are."

"NOT."

"Are."

"Am not!" 

"Abby, I can tell by looking at you. You look exhausted. Run down. Green. Of course you're sick."

"For God's sake Carter, I'm not sick, I'm pregnant!" 

Holy shit, that actually worked. I can't believe I managed to argue her into admitting it.

"So it's true?" I ask her. 

"You knew?" She sounds really pissed. "I can't believe she told you!" 

"Who?"

"Don't give me that crap, you know who." I just shrug and shake my head as if I have no idea what she's talking about. "Susan! That's who. She had to have told you, she 's the only one who knows." 

"She didn't tell me. I guessed."

"Uh-huh."

"Maybe she gave me a little hint."

"In the form of a drawing and various gestures?"   


I ignore that and for what seems like a really long time we just stand there staring at each other. 

"You're really pregnant?"

"You wanna see the test results? Susan did a blood test last week, I can get you a copy of the labs if you don't believe me. " 

"That's not what I meant."

"I'm really pregnant." 

"Is it …"

"Yours? Yeah, it is. There isn't anyone else, so there's not even a chance it's not. Sorry."

"Sorry? Why would you be sorry? I'm not." A baby. My baby. Abby's having my baby. Does she really think that I would think it's a bad thing? Maybe that's why she didn't tell me sooner. "When were you going to tell me?" I ask as gently as possible. 

She looks at me with a stony expression on her face. Anyone else might assume that it a reflection of her feelings, but I know better. It's a mask she wears when she's trying her best to keep her emotions in check. When she speaks, her voice is tight, just as I suspected it would be. "I wasn't."

"You weren't going to tell me?" She shakes her head. I laugh. "Well, you would have had to tell me sooner or later. It's not exactly the kind of thing you can hide for long. I mean, I think in a couple of months its going to be pretty obvious that you're going to have a baby." 

She looks at me and a flicker of some emotion -- fear, sorrow, despair -- floats across her face before she quickly reverts to the stone mask. "I'm not going to have a baby." 

"What?" 

"I'm getting an abortion." With that she pushes past me and goes out the door, disappearing in to the ER and leaving me stunned. 


	4. Have To Be Cruel To Be Kind

Title: Finding A Way Home

Author: Andrea

Summary: Now that the cat's out of the bag, what will happen?

Author's Note: Thanks again, Cath. This "fucking amazing" chapter (her words, not mine) is going out to you. And yes, Courtney, you were right … there is a conversation to be had. Carby interaction. Finally. Wow. Huh. Who knew? Enjoy. 

~*~*~*~

Finding A Way Home

Chapter 4: Have to Be Cruel to Be Kind

"Abby." I stop in my tracks and close my eyes. I can't really handle this now. I just can't.

"Go home, Carter." 

"I'm not going anywhere until we talk about this." He's leaning against the wall of the ambulance bay. He pushes off the wall and walks toward me. Has he been waiting here for hours while I finished my shift? 

"There's nothing to talk about." I tell him.

"Of course there's something to talk about!" He shouts.

"Well, I don't want to talk about it."

"Well, I do." He looks at me and I see the coldness in his eyes. He's angry. Well, of course he is. I know he's not happy about this now, but it's for his own good. Someday … "Abby. Get in the car." 

"No, I'm not going anywhere with you." 

"Yes, you are." He's got me by the arm and is propelling me toward his Jeep, which is parked just across the street. 

"No, I'm not." I say as I wrench my arm away from him. 

"Fine. Then we can have this conversation here. In front the entire ER staff if that's what you want. But believe me, we're having this conversation." 

The expression on his face is one of complete determination. Not to mention anger. But I see that stubborn set of his jaw line and something tells me I'm not going to win this battle. I really don't want to talk about it at all. But I absolutely don't want to talk about it in the ambulance bay. I stalk off to the Jeep, yank the door open, and climb in. He gets in a without a word. I don't ask where we're going and he doesn't offer. Nothing like a hostile silence to make a bad situation worse. 

We finally stop at some hole-in-the-wall diner reminiscent of Doc Magoo's. We walk through the door and into a sea of kids. What the hell is going on? Did Chuck E. Cheese burn down? All the McDonald's in the city close up simultaneously? Or did Carter just drive around for hours until he found a place packed with small children so he could wage some sort of psychological warfare? Or maybe it's just that kids eat free after six o'clock according to a giant sign hanging on the wall. That explains why this place is crawling with kids. And of course these children are all quiet, cute and well-behaved. Where are the screaming brats having temper tantrums? Not here. Here there are nothing but beautiful, happy families. Their smiles seem to mock my decision. I glance over at Carter and see that he looks just as uncomfortable as I feel. We manage to find a relatively secluded booth away from the merriment of the happy families. 

"Why?" Carter asks without preamble the moment we sit down. 

I shrug, staring down at my hands resting on the scarred tabletop. 

"That's it?" The anger in his voice is evident. "Don't you think I at least deserve an explanation? I think it's the least you could do. I mean, my God, you've apparently cut me out of the decision-making process completely."

"You made your decision." I look up at him. "The day you walked out of my life." 

"I didn't walk out of your life, Abby. I just wanted some time to think."

"You packed up all your shit and walked out the door. Wanted time to think? Wanted some time to go comparison shopping, you mean. See if you could find someone better, less complicated, without so many problems. And gee, I guess you did." I don't even bother to disguise the bitterness in my voice. I am bitter. Why shouldn't he know? After all, this is all his fault. Way, okay, maybe it's my fault too. But still, if he hadn't taken advantage of the fact that I was sound asleep and vulnerable … If only he hadn't showed up that night and slipped into my bed, if only we hadn't fought the next day, if only he hadn't left me behind just to find an new and improved model. If only things were different, maybe …

"It's not like that, Abby."

"Oh no? Then what is it like?

"We're just friends." 

"Yeah, right." I laugh, but it's certainly not a happy sound. 

"Abby -" 

Just then a waitress comes by to take our order. I ask for coffee and get a look from Carter. 

"Is that really the best idea?" He asks me as soon as she's gone. 

"What?" 

"All that caffeine. You're pregnant." I look at him like he's nuts. Was I somehow unclear about my intentions?

"I won't be for long. By tomorrow at this time … " I trail off, not knowing why I said anything to begin with. 

"Tomorrow? So soon?" 

"The sooner the better." I can't wait any longer. It's already been too long. I can't help but think about the fact that already the … embryo has fingers and toes, a beating heart. And every extra day just means that it's more of a baby. Time will only make it worse, not better. And I just want it over with. 

"Why are you doing this Abby? Are you doing this to punish me?" 

"What? No."

"Because it wouldn't be fair … to take your anger at me out on …"

"You really think I would do that? You really think that I would use this -" I stop myself before I say the word 'baby.' " …this … pregnancy to get back at you? That I would make this kind of decision based on my feelings about you? This isn't about you." It's all I can do to keep my voice low enough so that we aren't overheard by the entire restaurant. But my whisper is fierce and I think he understands the depth of my outrage. 

"I'm sorry. It's just that …if that's not why you're doing this … then why are you?"

"Did it ever occur to you that maybe I just don't want it?"

"No." He looks right into my eyes. I break the eye contact and look out the window like I'm really very interested in the garbage truck that's double-parked out there. I tell myself that I'm not going to cry. Not here. Not now. There'll be plenty of time for that later. 

"I'm doing it because … it's the right thing to do."

The waitress shows up at that moment, setting the coffee in front of me. I have no idea why I ordered it. I haven't had coffee in weeks seeing as how the smell of it makes my stomach flip over. But at least now I can play with the mug. It's something to do with my hands. Other than gauging out my own eyeballs, which would, I think, be preferable to having this conversation. God, I wish he hadn't found out.

"Abby?" He doesn't sound angry any more, just sad. "If it's the right thing to do, how come it feels so wrong? You can't tell me that … aborting our baby feels right to you."

"It's for the best." I tell the coffee, staring into its depths, being careful not to look up into Carter's face. 

"The best for whom, Abby? Not for you. I know this isn't what you want."

"And how do you _know_ that?"

"Because I know you, Abby. Besides, if you're so set on not having this baby, why do you have prenatal vitamins and a pregnancy book in your locker?"

"What were you doing going through my locker?"

"Snooping. But that doesn't change the fact that they were there. If you're so sure, why?"

I shrug. "I don't know … just in case."

"Just in case you decided to keep the baby?" He gives me a questioning look like he thinks that maybe I hadn't even considered it.

"This isn't something that I take lightly you know."

"Well you were pretty cavalier when you just announced that you were getting an abortion. Like you were getting a haircut or a manicure."

"This isn't easy for me. All I've done is think about this for weeks."

"Why didn't you come to me?" I give him a look. "Yeah, okay. But I … I never for meant us to be over for good. I just thought that maybe we needed a break. And Abby … no matter what's going on with us, you have to know that the baby … that's a whole other ball game. I would want our baby no matter what. I do want our baby."

"John … please don't. Don't give me a guilt trip. This is already hard enough. I'm not especially happy about having to do this." 

"Then don't do it." It's not so much a suggestion as it is a plea.

"I have to." 

"Of course you don't. Abby. Don't be ridiculous. There's no reason you can't have this baby."

"Yeah, but a thousand reasons why I shouldn't." 

"Is this about bipolar disorder? I know you worry about it. But the chances are so slim … and we all have things we'd rather not pass on to our kids. Bipolar disease is a big one, but it doesn't scare me. We'd get through it."

"It's not just that. That's part of it, but … "

"Is it us? Because, you know, maybe this baby came along to help us get it together. You know, put things in perspective so we can figure out what's really important."

"Carter, this pregnancy is a mistake made in careless moment. It's not a tool of fate. It's just an accident." 

"A surprise. It doesn't have to be a mistake. It's whatever we make it, Ab. You never know what life is gonna throw at you, and this could turn out to be one of those unexpected but wonderful … windfalls." 

"It's a just a mistake. There's no reason to ruin our lives over it." 

"Ruin our lives? Abby, it's not a dreaded disease. It's a baby. A new life. And that's a gift."

He's so naïve sometimes. Sweet and adorable, but ridiculously naïve. "I know you feel that way now …"

"I'll feel that way always." 

"No, you won't. Right now, this is all you can see. It looks pretty good because there's no alternative. But someday, it would end up being a burden to you. And I don't want to put myself or a child in that position." 

"It could never be a burden, Abby. It's a blessing." 

"Yeah, sure. It would be great. Until I screw it up. I don't even know what kind of mother I'd make. A crappy one probably. Certainly not the mother that your child deserves."

"Abby …"

"I'd be a complete mess as a mother. And I couldn't stand to do that to my child. And while it's a nice idea, in practice … I don't think I have what it takes."

"Sure you do." 

"No, I just don't think I'm ready. I just don't think I'll ever be ready." 

"Then I'll take the baby." 

As soon as the words are out of his mouth, he looks a little stricken, probably worried that I'm not going to take it the right way. In truth, I've thought about it myself. I know he'd be a good father. And even though he seems to think that there's still something to 'us,' I've known it was over since he walked out the door more than a month ago. So in theory, I could give him the baby to raise on his own and move on with my life. But somehow, I just don't think I could bear to walk away from my child. Abandoned by your own mother, even in favor of your father raising you, that can't be an easy one for a kid. I know all too well that no matter what anyone tells you, you think that you weren't good enough. I won't do that to my child. 

I shake my head, sadly. "No, I don't think that would work. I thought about it, but …" 

"Well, you wouldn't exactly be giving me the baby if you and I are together." 

"Yeah, right, that's gonna happen."

"I told you I never wanted things to be over with us for good. And if we work things out between the two of us … then the baby could be my responsibility. I could be the primary caregiver. I'll do it. Diapers, potty training, soccer practice. And if the kid gets messed up, it'll be my fault."

"I think you're grasping at straws. That could never work. How would it work if we were together, but I ignored our child?"

"Not ignored … I'd just have the primary responsibility."

"Right, and you wouldn't resent that."

"No … not as much as I'd resent not having the child at all. Besides, Abby, it's the way it was done for years. Only it was usually the dad who let the mom handle everything." 

"I don't think I could do that. And you and I …"

"We could start over, if you're willing."

"You're the one who walked out on me."

"I explained that." 

"Yeah. Of course, you didn't pay much attention to me until you found out you knocked me up. You seemed to be otherwise occupied."

"I explained that too. But Abby, you can't be suggesting that nothing's changed. You're pregnant. That changes everything. If you don't want to be with me, Abby … then I could do it on my own. Or we could do it together, even if we're not _together_. You could be involved as little or as much as you want. But we can't just pretend that nothing happened. This changes everything."

"And that's my point exactly. We can't just get back together and forget everything because I'm pregnant. It's all just so complicated. That's why it's better if I'm just not pregnant."

"Abby, you can't just take the easy way out."

"Easy? Hardly." I look at him and contemplate explaining how I know, first hand, how not easy it is. But then I feel like I've already burdened him enough. I never wanted to him know because I didn't want to hurt him like this. 

"Look," I say. "I know how much you think you want this … but I really just don't think that I can do it. I don't think I can bring a child into the world under these circumstances." 

"What circumstances?" 

"Oh I don't know. That we have this relationship that we can't quite seem to get right. That we have this complicated history and all this baggage. We're addicts on top of that. Recovering or not, it's all we can do to keep our own heads afloat any given day. How can we raise a child? Not to mention that I could pass on a disease that I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy, much less my child. I don't know the first thing about being a mother. And if I have this baby … it's just gonna end up bad. For everyone."

"Bad for you, you mean?"

"No, not for me." Me? No, if things were different, I'd have the baby in a heartbeat. If I thought that I could be a proper mother. If everything wasn't so damn complicated. If it were just about me and what would make me happy, I wouldn't even have to think about it. But giving in to what I want now would only be setting all of us up for an even greater heartache later on. "I'm probably the only one who'd get something good out of it. It's the baby I'm thinking about. And you." 

"Me? But I want the baby. If you had the baby, I'd get something great too. Something tells me the baby would be glad if you kept it. And if you think you would be getting something good … then what's the problem? It would be great."

"I know you think that now. But believe me, someday you'll thank me. Someday, when you're living a perfect life with your perfect wife and perfect kids, you'll remember me, vaguely, as someone who once passed through your life. And believe me, you'll be glad then that I didn't bear your bastard child."

"Abby, I would never feel that way about you or our child."

"Yeah, you say that now. And I know you believe it. But when everything falls apart between us, and we can't even be friends anymore, you're not gonna be happy to have me as a permanent fixture in your life. And I'm not sure the senator's daughter will be real thrilled about the child of some trashy nurse you used to bang coming over and sullying her picture-perfect family. And sooner or later, you'll have to choose. And who do you think will lose out? I'm not putting my child through that."

"Abby! I would never put anyone in front of my child."

"Until you've got three others whose mother you are actually married to. Then it's me and our child that fall by the wayside. Maybe if the baby gets really lucky, your new wife will want to play mommy to my child, and I can quietly bow out, forever scarring our child by making her think that she wasn't even good enough for own her mother to love her. Don't you see? There's no winning situation here."

"What if we end up together? You don't seem to have considered that option. What if _we_ turn out to be the perfect little family? We could have the baby, get married …"

"Ha ha. Yeah. Live happily ever after too, I'll bet. If you really wanted to marry me, you would've asked before now. But suddenly now that I'm pregnant … well, I'm not about to get married because you feel some warped sense of obligation. And I'm not having a baby whose future is completely up in the air. Children need security and stability. Not chaos. And I'm afraid that's all I'd have to offer. So I won't do it. I can't."

"Abby please … just forget about all that stuff and concentrate on the baby."

"How can I forget about everything and just think about the baby when everything … all our personal issues, all our faulty genes, all our mistakes will impact that child's entire life. There's just way too many things that can … and will go wrong. I wish I could take the chance, but I just can't. I don't want to raise another me."

"Another you? Abby, our child would be lucky to grow up to be as smart and funny and caring and wonderful as you are. Why don't you ever think you're good enough? You are. You could do this. _We _could do this. And it could be great." 

"I wish I could believe that. I really do. I wish I could give you what you want here. But it wouldn't be right. I have to … end this pregnancy. I just can't have a baby."

"Abby, please. I'm begging you. This is my child too. Please don't do this."

"I have to." The tears gathered in my eyes are threatening to fall, and I can hear them in my voice. I look at him and see the same tearful expression. But I have to be strong. I can't let him talk me into something that he'll regret later. I won't let myself ruin his life on a whim. 

"Please? Abby? Don't throw this chance away because of some imagined future scenarios that might never happen. This might be the only chance we get at something wonderful … and we have to take the opportunity when we get it because it might never come again." I shake my head and swipe at some escaped tears. I know what he's saying is true. But it's the chance I'll have to take. Not that I'm even sure that I want another opportunity. Maybe if I happen to stumble upon that dream world where all my problems magically disappear. 

"I wish I could …"

"Abby, if you go through with this … you know that things will never be the same again. And things between us … I just don't think we could get past it. Not if you can take a piece of us and just throw it away like garbage. I don't think there would be much hope for us after that. So please … please, Abby. I'm begging you to reconsider. Please keep our baby." 

This is the time when I have to be the one to be strong. It's for his own good. Time to put an end to all this. 

"I'm sorry, John. I can't … I won't have this baby."

"Abby …" Oh God, his voice. So sad and brokenhearted. And those tears in his eyes. And the sadness … the emptiness. I want more than anything to wrap my arms around him and hold him. To let him hold me. To stay wrapped in each other's arms while we plan our baby's future. But it's not going to happen. Sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind. And I know this is for the best. 

"Good-bye, Carter." 

I slip out of the booth and walk away from him, refusing to look back. 


	5. Too Late

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Title: Finding A Way Home

Author: Andrea

Author's Note: Thanks to the other half of my brain for the editing. I didn't want anyone getting irate, so here's the next chapter. But you know, for getting this chapter posted so soon, I expect a little something in return. It's the least you could do, don't you think?

~*~*~*~

Finding A Way Home

Chapter 5: Too Late 

She said good-bye to me and then walked away. Good-bye to me. Good-bye to us. Good-bye to everything that we had and everything that we could have had. I still can't believe that she just walked away. 

I chased after her, but by the time I hit the street, she was gone without a trace. The rest the night was spent alternately calling her apartment, her cell phone, her pager. No response. Of course not. I drove past her building countless times. I wanted to go in and pound on her door until she was forced to open it up. I wanted to beg her to reconsider. I wanted to ask for consideration for our child. I wanted to find the words to convince her that she was making a mistake. And that if she would just have the baby, we could find a way to work things out. That somehow we'd be okay. 

But I didn't know where to find the right words. And as much as my heart breaks for myself, for my baby, and even for Abby, I know I can't force her to do something she doesn't want to do. Nor would I want to. If she really doesn't want to have the baby, convincing her to do it anyway is not the way to go. It's not going to give me the happy little family I want. But my child would be in this world. And that would be a wonderful thing. But what price would we all pay? I hate to admit it, but maybe Abby's right. 

So then why is there a lump in my throat that won't go away? Why have I spent most of the day feeling like I wanted to throw up? As soon as I got into work I checked the schedule, hoping against hope that Abby would be working. And that she hadn't really meant that the abortion was today. But sure enough, she was off for the next several days. I guess I won't have any more time to come up with the perfect words. 

I heave a huge sigh. I managed to avoid dealing with kids for most of the day, but I just got done putting a cast on an adorable little two-year-old with big chocolate brown eyes. I couldn't help but think that a couple of years from now, I could have a cute little boy just like him. If only Abby was willing. This may be the one and only time in my life that I've found myself wishing that it was men who get pregnant. 

"Hey." Susan says, coming into the lounge where I'm supposedly getting a break. I'm sure it's no accident that she's here. She was watching me watch that little boy. "Things didn't go too well with Abby, huh?" 

"Well, she hates me and is going to kill our baby. But other than that it went great." I say with a note of bitterness in my voice. I don't know whether to be mad or grateful that Susan helped me figure out was going on. I wish she'd told me sooner. Maybe if I'd had more time … 

"She doesn't hate you, Carter. She was hurt by you. She's scared. And if she's going to make a mistake, she wants it to be one that hurts her and not anyone else." 

"Doesn't she think this is going to hurt me?" 

"She didn't want you to know. I shouldn't have told you."

"Why did you?"

"I was afraid you'd try to stuff me in a locker if I didn't at least give you a hint. You were kinda scary, yelling at me and everything. And I could see that you were terrified that something was terribly wrong with Abby. And …"

"What?" 

"I guess maybe I thought that if anyone could talk her out of it, it would be you." 

"I begged her, Susan. I _begged_ her. And she just walked away." She took my whole future with her when she went. All my hopes and dreams down the drain. "I tried everything I could think of. But no matter what I told her, she wouldn't believe me. She kept telling me that I don't know what I want. That someday when she's long gone, I'll be glad. "

"Yeah, she has some crazy idea that she's doing this for you. That it's going to protect you somehow." 

"She thinks that my future wife and kids won't approve of some bastard child. She thinks that I'd choose the mother of my other children over her and our child. What she doesn't understand is that I don't want anyone else to be my wife or the mother of my children. It has to be Abby. It's always been Abby. There could never be anyone else. I could never love anyone the way I love her." 

"Did you tell her _that_?"

My head snaps up as I realize that no, I didn't tell her that. Or anything approximating it, really. I mean, I talked about us trying to work things out, but I didn't tell her how I feel about her. How I've always felt about her. I didn't tell her that I love her. That I've loved her for so long and so completely that I can't remember a time when I didn't love her. I didn't even tell her that I can't --and don't want to-- imagine my life without her. Oh God, I really fucked up this time. 

I look at my watch, thinking that maybe it's not too late. Maybe I can still find her and stop her. Maybe I have the right words now. Maybe … maybe she's already had it done. For all I know, it was this morning and there's nothing that I can do now. And I wouldn't even know where to look for her. If she's already gone off to some clinic, I'd never be able to guess which one. Unless …

"Susan? Did she tell you? Where and when?" 

Susan nods slowly. Glances up at the clock. "But you're gonna have to hurry." 

******

Armed with the address that Susan gave me, I race across the city, leaving Susan to cover for me. And explain my absence somehow. I'm assuming she'll make up some really embarrassing excuse for me, but I don't care. All I care about it getting to Abby in time. I have no idea if my pleas will fall on deaf ears once again or not. But I have to try. For my own peace of mind, I have to try. I have to know that I did everything I could. This is my child. This is the woman I love. This is my whole future. I have to do everything that I can. 

It's only when I arrive at the clinic that I realize that I have no plan. I guess I'm going to barge into the waiting room and hope that Abby's there. And if she's not … I have no idea what I'll do. 

I open the door to the building. The clinic is on the fourth floor. I can't wait for the elevator so I run up the three flights of stairs. I'm breathing hard when I burst into the clinic's reception area. 

Empty. The waiting room is empty. I'm too late. I think my heart stops. My throat closes up. I'm going to throw up or pass out. Or maybe I'm going to scream. 

"Sir?" The receptionist is calling to me. 

"Abby Lockhart? Is she here?" My voice is desperate, asking a question that I know she'll never answer. If I could have thought of a some legitimate medical reason to be here, I could have pretended to be her doctor. But I think I've just played the desperate father card instead. 

"Sir, I can't give out that information." 

"You don't understand. This is a mistake. She's making a mistake. I have to stop her." If it isn't already too late. I know it must be, but there this part of me that hopes that maybe it hasn't happened yet. It's barely ten minutes past the time of her appointment. Assuming that they got her in on time, would they have even started yet? Maybe she's still back there somewhere. Still pregnant. Maybe I can get to her. "Abby! Abby!" I call her name like maybe she's gonna come skipping out of an exam room at the sound of my voice. 

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to leave." 

"Abby!" I would run down the hall yanking open all the exam door, but there's a door between the waiting area and the hallway. Something tells me it's locked. Vaulting over the receptionist's desk would be an option if it weren't surrounded by safety glass. I can't stand it. Abby's just on the other side of this wall. Somewhere. And I can't get to her. No matter how close I am, I'm still too far away. Oh, God. This can't be happening. "Abby!" This time it's more of a wail than a scream. I can't stand this.

"Sir, you need to leave. Right now." Before I can protest or say another word, a couple of beefy security guards appear on either side of me. They take my arms, but I pull away. 

"I'll go." I say. My voice flat and defeated and close to tears. There's no reason to stay anyway. I blew it. Again. 

I wait for the elevator and ride back down to the first floor. Nothing urgent now. It doesn't matter if it takes three hours for me to get to the lobby. Nothing really matters now. 

I find my way to the Jeep, walking on autopilot, barely noticing the rain that's started to fall or the black cloud hanging over the city. Fitting, I suppose. I get in the Jeep and start it up. And then I drive. I just drive. 

******

I drove through the rain for hours. Not knowing where I was going. Not really caring. 

And now I find myself back at Gamma's -- my house, the rain having turned into a full blown storm. The flashes of lightening and claps of thunder seem ominous somehow. And that's fine with me. Bring on storms and floods. It's a welcome distraction. 

I walk in through the kitchen and down the hall, wandering aimlessly once again. I notice a light coming from the study. The housekeeper must have left it on. I walk into the room and find that I'm not alone.

Abby. 

She's sitting at the end of the couch, curled up around herself. Her face is pale and drawn. And wet. Although, I suspect that's not from the rain. She looks up at me, and I can see the misery in her face. A part of me wants to go to her and hold her, comfort her. Another part of me wants to tell her to get out, that I never want to see her again. But in the end, I can't do either. 

"What are you doing here?" I finally ask. My voice is harsh even to my own ears. Abby doesn't react to it, though.

"Susan said you were looking for me." Her voice is different. Quiet and sad. Tentative.

I nod. 

"She said you had something you needed to tell me." 

I shrug. What does it matter now? 

"I'm here now." She says. 

"Yeah." I walk over and sit down on the couch next to her. I'm not sure why. Maybe because even now, that's what happens when she's near me. Drawn to her. Always. Up close I can see that her eyes are bloodshot and red-rimmed. Her cheeks are tear-stained and her nose and eyes are puffy. She's sniffling and hiccupping. And that urge to comfort her returns. But I can't bring myself to do it.

We sit in silence for a while. Then she breaks it by asking, "Aren't you going to tell me?"

"I don't think so."

"Why not?" 

"Because … it's too late." 

"Too late for what?"

"Too late for … everything. Too late for us. Too late for our baby." 

"No, it's not." Oh now she wants to start over? That's great. 

"Abby, look I --"

"John," She reaches out and takes my hand. "It's _not_ too late." She moves my hand to her belly and holds it there firmly. 

I'm speechless. Breathless. My heart skips a beat and then starts beating uncontrollably fast. I don't believe it. It can't be true. But it is. I see it in her eyes. "You … you're still …" 

"Pregnant? Yeah, I'm still pregnant." 

Even though I'm pretty sure I know the answer, I'm still afraid to ask my next question. "You're keeping it?" Please, please, please. 

"Yeah." She nods, but doesn't smile. In fact, she looks kinda grim. 

"You're sure?"

"I wouldn't be here telling you if I wasn't. I wouldn't do that to you. I know how much you want this. I wouldn't get your hopes up just to take it away from you. I've already caused you enough pain. And the only reason I didn't tell you in the first place was because I never wanted to hurt you. I thought I'd be protecting you by making sure you never knew. So I wouldn't have said anything now if I wasn't sure."

"Oh, Abby." I wrap my arms around her. "I'm so glad you changed your mind." Vast understatement. "I don't know what to say. Thank you. Thank you for not giving up on the baby. Thank you for not giving up on us."

"Us?" She says, pulling out of my embrace and turning to look at me. 

"Yeah, us. You and me … and the baby." I put my hand back on her belly. "We're gonna be a family. So, you know, 'us.'" 

She pushes my hand away as she snorts derisively. "There is no us, John. There's me and our baby. And there's you and your whore." The anger in her voice catches me off guard. 

"Abby --"

"Let's get something straight, Carter. I'm having the baby. That's all there is to it. It doesn't have anything to do with where we stand. You didn't want me then, there's no reason you should want me now. I'm not asking for that. I don't expect that." 

"Abby, I always wanted you."

Another mirthless laugh. "You've got a great way of showing it. First you leave me and then you take up with some tramp. Nice." 

"I told you, Abby, she and I are--"

"Oh, I know, _just friends_." She manages to instill an awful lot of sarcasm into two little words. "You know Carter, Susan and I are just friends, but you don't see the two of us going out on dates or making out in the parking garage. Hell, Luka and I are just friends too, but something tells me you wouldn't like it very much if I spent the kind of quality time with him that you've been spending with your little nursey. And flaunting it in front of me … and our friends … and the entire hospital doesn't exactly make it any easier on me." 

She looks directly at me and then away, muttering something that sounds a lot like "asshole." I'm sure that a lot of this is latent anger that she feels toward me for the mistakes that I've made in our relationship. And part of it is probably hormones. But there's something else here. 

"You're jealous." I say, as if it's revelation. And I guess it is. I think I thought that she didn't care. I said I wanted some time and space, and she didn't say a word. So I left. She never tried to stop me or call me back. And in the weeks since, she's acted as if my presence in her life didn't matter one way or the other. 

She looks at me for a long moment. "Maybe." 

"Look, I don't know what you heard, but I can guarantee you that the rumors were greatly exaggerated. Two dates. Two. If you could even call them dates."

"Two? Wow, you work fast."

"Huh? What? Oh you don't think … Abby, I didn't sleep with her."

"You didn't?" 

"No. Although it wasn't for a lack of a trying … on her part." 

"Then why didn't you?" 

"Because … she's not you."

"Oh."

I take her hand in mine, and she looks over at me, giving me a small, but genuine smile. It's the first one I've seen in a long time. And somehow, it makes her seem more open, but also more vulnerable. That desire to hold and comfort her returns, this time it's not tempered by my anger, but by my fear. I don't know exactly how she feels about me right now, and I don't want to push my luck. Of course, she _is_ having my baby, so that must mean something. Maybe it's time I told her how I feel. 

"Ab? What I wanted to tell you earlier? Well, I think you should know that … well, you're the only one that I would ever want to have my baby. So I guess the senator's daughter will just have to find someone else. Because I can't imagine anyone else being my the mother of my children." 

She looks at me with that same grim look I saw on her face earlier. "Why?" I crinkle my eyebrows in confusion. "Why would you want me to be the mother of your children? I have no idea how to be a mother. I'm gonna be a complete disaster, and I wouldn't wish that fate on anyone … only now, I'm going to inflict it on my own child … poor kid getting stuck with me for a mom. God, I'm a terrible person." 

As usual, she manages to confound me. I'm not sure that I know exactly what she's trying to say, but I take a stab at it anyway. "For having the baby?" Is that what she means? How does that make her a terrible person?

"For being selfish. I feel like such a failure." Her voice is quiet and sad. 

"You lost me on this one, Ab. Bringing a new life into the world is selfish? It makes you a failure?"

"When you know it's not the right thing to do, yes."

"How can it be wrong, if it's what we want? It is what you want, right?"

"For myself? Yeah. But what we want isn't what's most important anymore. I knew what I should have done, but I couldn't do it. I just couldn't. So now I … I just want to do right by this baby. If only I knew what that was. I just hope I'm not making a huge mistake." 

"You're not. You'll see. Once this baby is born, you won't have any doubts." 

"I always thought I wasn't meant to be a mother. I'm still not sure about that one. All I know is, right or wrong, I'm having this baby. Because it's the only thing I can do." 

"It's gonna be great Abby. _You're _gonna be great."

"You're hopelessly optimistic." She says that like maybe it's _not_ a good thing. "You're also grinning like an idiot."

"Yeah. I know." I tell her. She shakes her head in amusement. "We're gonna have a baby." Still hard to believe it's real.

"Yeah, I guess so." She looks down at my hand resting on her belly once again before looking back up to meet my eyes with her own. "I made an appointment in OB tomorrow morning. At eleven. If you want to come."

"Of course I want to come. And I can make it because I'm not on until noon."

"I know. I wanted to be sure you could be there."

"Thank you."

"It's your baby too." She stops for minute, looks at me as she seems to be considering something. "Listen, I'm sorry that I was acting like your feelings didn't matter. I should have come to you right away. But I really did think that I was protecting you."

"It's okay." I give her hand a little squeeze. No hard feelings. After all, I'm way too grateful to her to harbor any grudges. Grateful to her for reconsidering. For having my baby. For making me a father. "It's over. It doesn't matter now, anyway. All that matters now is concentrating on our baby. And I'm thrilled that you're gonna let me be involved."

"I want you to be involved. I don't want you to miss out." She looks like she wants to say something else, but is hesitating again. "Besides, I'd feel better if you were there. I always feel better when you're with me." 

So maybe there's some hope for us after all. "Abby? Do you think there's any chance that … we could start over?" 

"What? As friends?" She's laughing, like maybe it's a crazy idea. 

"Well, it would be a start. I mean, now, no matter what, you're stuck with me. So it would be helpful if we were at least friends. And we can see where it goes from there. Take it slow. It won't be easy, but I think we owe it to our baby, and ourselves, to give it a shot." 

She sighs and looks at me for a long minute. I expect her to turn me down flat. But then she nods. "Okay. We'll work on it. Like you said, we have to find some way to at least get along."

I smile at her. I don't think there's a way to tell her how happy she's made me. Suddenly there's hope. Hope for a future. If I'm really lucky, it'll be a future with Abby. But even if that doesn't work out, at least I'll always have our child. And every time I look at that child, I'll be reminded of Abby and all the good times we had together, and how my life is better for having known her. 

She smiles back at me. A happier, more relaxed smile that I've seen in a long time. I hope she's starting to feel a sense of peace with her decision. Regardless of her reservations, I'm sure that she's doing the right thing. For all of us.

"I should go." She says, standing up. "It's getting late." 

"Go? You can't go. It's storming. The rain's really coming down out there. Visibility sucks. And it's windy."

"It's always windy. This is Chicago. I'll be fine."

"Abby? Please. I don't want anything happening to you."

"Especially since I'm incubating your baby, huh?" 

"Abby."

"I don't want to sit here all night waiting for it to stop raining. I'm tired, Carter. I've had a hard day. I just want to go to bed."

"Okay. Fine. Stay here."

"So much for moving slowly." 

"Abby … that's not what I meant. There's more than a few bedrooms around here. You can have one of your very own."

"Well …"

"Please? It's really nasty out there. Is it really worth the risk?" 

She looks at me. Rolls her eyes. "It's gonna be like this all the time until this kid comes out, isn't it?" 

"Probably." 

"Okay. Fine. I'll stay." 

"Good." She really does look worn out, though. So I lead her upstairs to get her tucked in for the night. 

And all the while I can't help thinking about how much has changed in such a short time. Two days ago, I didn't even know she was pregnant. Yesterday, I thought she was getting an abortion and ruining any chance we had for happiness. Just this afternoon I thought that everything was hopeless. But now the world seems ripe with possibilities. I've got Abby close to me. We've got a baby on the way. And now, no matter what else happens between us, we'll always share something wonderful. I'm going to be a father. The thought is overwhelming. But I've never been so happy before in my life. I have to pinch myself to make sure that I'm not dreaming, because this all seems too good to be true.

~*~*~*~

__

Author's Note: So yeah, I don't so much do straight up angst. Sorry about that. But don't worry, even though it seems like it's gonna be every other fic, this one isn't going to be all sweetness and light. Oh, it's not gonna be anything over-the-top dramatic, but just a different take on how it could be. But there should still be room for fuzz and drama. Let's hope so anyway. Thanks for reading! 


	6. The Way It Should Be

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Title: Finding A Way Home

Author: Andrea 

Author's Note: Thanks to my guest editor, #2, Kelly who always loves a shout out. Thanks for all the great reviews. And I hope there's more where that came from. Hint, hint. 

~*~*~*~

Finding A Way Home 

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Chapter 6: The Way It Should Be

"John?" A sleepy, tentative voice calls from the doorway.

I look up and see Abby standing in the doorway to my bedroom, looking adorable in a borrowed pair of my sweats and one of my t-shirts. I'm sitting up in bed, supposedly catching up on medical journals, but really just daydreaming about impending fatherhood. 

"What's wrong, Abby?" I ask when I see the look of apprehension on her face. I feel a wave of fear wash over me. I can't even stand to think that something could be wrong with her or with the baby. Especially after what we've gone through getting to this point.

She yawns and smiles slightly before shaking her head. "Nothing. I just …"

"Is your room okay? You need something? Extra blanket?" 

"No. It's … fine." She's still standing the doorway, looking rumpled and sleepy.

"You can come in, you know." 

I think that maybe she'll come in and sit on one of the chairs. Maybe perch on the edge of the bed. But I'm shocked, yet again this evening, when she crosses the room, pulls back the covers and climbs into my bed. That in itself is surprising enough. But then she scoots over next to me and cuddles up with me, using my chest for her pillow. What the hell? Two hours ago she seemed so distant that even when I wanted nothing more than to take her into my arms and hold her tight, I refrained, afraid of her reaction. But here she is now, wrapping her arms around me. This is very weird behavior. Not that I'm complaining. It's just so unexpected. But then, this is Abby. If there's one thing I can expect from her, it's the unexpected. Maybe this is some hormone thing. Maybe she's just feeling scared and vulnerable and needs the comfort of being close to another warm body. But whatever the reason, I'll just enjoy it. 

"You scared?" I ask her. 

She looks up at me. "Well … you know. It's an enormous bed in a gigantic room. And there's a fierce storm outside, with the wind rattling the window panes. And this place is kinda creepy. Sorry, but it's just so … _huge_. Strange place, strange noises -- I couldn't sleep. "

"That's not what I meant, Ab."

"I know." She says, pulling her gaze away from me and settling her head on my shoulder. 

"But if you want some company, I'm happy to help you out with that. I wouldn't want you getting lonely across the hall." 

"Not lonely. Cold."

"I offered you an extra blanket." 

"You work better than a blanket." Ah … so she's just using me for my body heat. 

"So … _are_ you scared?" 

She nods and sighs. "I just wish I felt more sure about this."

"Well, I'm sure enough for the both of us." 

"Yeah, I know." 

"You'll see, Abby. Everything's going to be fine. I know you're worried. And that's normal. This is all kind of overwhelming. But we'll just take it one step at a time." I wrap my arms around her and hug her, trying to reassure her. We stay like this for a little while. Not talking. Each of us thinking our own thoughts. But surprisingly, considering the strain our relationship has been under lately, this doesn't feel awkward. It feels natural. It feels right. Just like it always has.

"I'm glad this old house is drafty." I finally say. "Because I've missed this. I've missed you." 

"You could have fooled me." Her voice is playful enough, but I know perfectly well that she's not really joking.

I shrug. "You seemed just as happy without me." 

"Well, I wasn't." She doesn't offer anymore on the subject, and I guess I should be lucky that I got that much. I guess maybe my presence in her life does make a difference to her. My arms are still loosely wrapped around her and I find that one hand is slowly creeping over to her belly and finding a resting spot there. Hello, baby. 

"Abby?" 

"Hmm?" She probably has an idea of what's coming. 

"What made you change your mind?" 

She sighs and I feel the shrugging of her shoulders. "I don't know. I meant to do it. I was going to it. I really did think it was for the best. But …"

"But what?"

"I was sitting there in the waiting room, and when the receptionist called my name, I just couldn't make myself stand up. Three times she called my name, and each time I just sat there. Finally, she called someone else in my place. And I realized that I wasn't going to be able to do it. Not then, and not ever. No matter what my head was telling me I should do, I just couldn't go through with it. I couldn't make myself get up and walk into that exam room. I didn't want to go in there pregnant, practically brimming with life, and come out … empty. I didn't think I could live with it. I didn't think I could live with myself if I went through with it. I just hope I can live with myself for not going through with it. For being selfish." 

"Selfish? You said that before, Abby. And I still don't understand how having the baby is selfish." 

Another sigh. I'm not sure she's going to say anything, but eventually she speaks. "Because I knew what was right. My head was telling me that it was in everyone's best interests to end the pregnancy. My heart was telling me something else. And every time I ignore logic and follow my heart, I end up getting hurt. Or hurting someone else. And I don't want to do that to our child."

"You won't Abby. You're gonna do just great. And I don't think that what you're doing is selfish, anyway you look at it. You're gonna bring a new life into this world. What can be selfish about that?" 

I suffer through another long pause where I'm not sure that Abby's going to reply. Finally, she does. "Because a big part of why I didn't have the abortion was simply that I couldn't face it. The pain, the guilt. I just couldn't bring myself to suffer through it all again." 

"Again?"

I feel the movement of her head against my chest as she nods. I'm not sure, but I think she might be crying. Or more accurately, trying not to cry. And when she speaks I hear the unshed tears in her voice. 

"When I was married to Richard … I got pregnant and had an abortion. He doesn't know. It seemed easier that way. But living with it, with what I've done, hasn't been easy. I was young and stupid -- naïve, I guess. And scared. I was so scared. And I thought I was doing the right thing then too. I probably was. I can't say that I would go back and change it if I could. But I couldn't handle it a second time. The first time I was too dumb to know exactly what to expect. This time I knew exactly what I was in for. And exactly what I'd be giving up. I didn't think I'd ever be able to look at myself in the mirror again if I went through with it. So I didn't." 

"Well, I'm glad for that. That you didn't go through with it this time, I mean. And I'm sure that before …you did what you had to do. And maybe it was for the best then. But Abby, not wanting an abortion now doesn't make you selfish. There's nothing wrong with wanting to have this baby or wanting to be a mother. With taking a piece of happiness for yourself for once. And you know, that's exactly what this baby's gonna be. A blessing. A joy. And you deserve to have that kind of happiness in your life."

"But does this baby deserve to get stuck with me?"

"Not stuck with you, Abby. Lucky to have you." 

"I don't know about that." She sounds sad and uncertain. I wish I knew a way to convince her. I'm lost in my own thoughts and almost don't hear her, she speaks so softly. "Carter?" 

"Yeah?"

"Did you mean what you said yesterday?"

"Yes." 

"Don't you want to know which part I was talking about?" Her voice sounds slightly more playful, but still with an edge of sadness to it.

"Doesn't matter … I meant all of it."

"So you would really take the baby?"

"What?"

"If … if I can't do it. If I can't give this baby what it needs, would you take it? I mean, being a single parent is a pretty big job …"

"What if we're together?"

"What if we're not? What if the choice is the baby living with me or the baby living with you? Would you want the baby if I thought I couldn't be a proper mother?"

"I would never want to take the baby away from you, Abby."

"That's not what I mean. What if I wanted to give you the baby? What if I wanted you to raise it? Not that I wouldn't be around, but … well, unless of course, you already had a new mommy waiting in the wings. Then I guess I could make myself scarce." 

"That's not gonna happen Abby. I want to raise our child with you. Not with anyone else. And I want to do it together. Even if things don't work out between us, we'll work something out. It doesn't have to be all mine or all yours. It's ours."

"But what if …"

"Yes, Abby, _if_ you decided that you couldn't, or didn't want to, raise the baby, I would do it on my own. I meant that. But it's not gonna come to that. It's not. You'll see. I know it all seems very remote now, but wait until the baby starts kicking. Wait until you give birth. Wait until you hold our baby. You're not gonna want to let go."

She looks up at me and this time the tears slip down her cheeks. "I won't want to, but …" She trails off, the rest of the thought unfinished. But I know what she's thinking. She would sacrifice her own happiness for the good of our child. Or rather, the good of our child as _she_ sees it. Still, that she would sacrifice anything to do what she thinks is best for the baby is pretty remarkable. And she's worried that she won't be a good enough mother? 

"Abby, you're too hard on yourself." I kiss her forehead. "You'll be a great mommy." She looks up at me with somber eyes. She's not convinced. "You're gonna do great. You're already off to a great start, being so concerned already about doing what's best for our baby. I know it's all kind of hard to take in at once. So … Let's just take it one day at a time, okay?" She nods slowly before returning to her former position, using my chest as her pillow. 

"You know … there was another reason I couldn't go through with it."

"What's that?"

"You."

"Oh." I feel a little smile creep across my face. Until I think of something else that concerns me and wipes the smile off my face. "But you're not just doing this for me are you? Because I didn't want that."

"No, it's not that. I just mean … well, last time when … I was pregnant, it was different. I was convinced that Richard didn't want children anyway. So I figured I was only doing what he would have wanted me to do, had he known. I thought I was doing him a favor. Of course, I thought I would be doing you a favor, too. You know, unburdening you."

"I told you Abby, you and our child could never be a burden."

"I hope that's true. I felt like a miserable failure for not being strong enough to actually do what I was so sure was best for you. I mean, I really thought that in the long run, you'd be happier if I didn't have the baby. But … I also knew that this is what you wanted now. And I kept seeing your face. The look on your face when you asked me not to have the abortion. And every time I would close my eyes … I would see this little baby with big brown eyes. Your eyes. Those same pleading, sad, puppy-dog eyes. And knowing how much you wanted it …" She trails off and looks up at me again. Then looks away as she says, "I just hope I didn't ruin your future by giving you what you want right now." 

"Never. Abby, you gave me back my future. Who knows if there would ever have been another opportunity for us? You can't just throw away this kind of chance, because you never know where life will take you. And if you keep waiting around … sooner or later you'll realize that you've missed out on everything. And if there's one thing I don't want to miss out on, it's this. What I want more than anything is a future with you and our baby. And now I can have it. So don't ever be sorry for having my baby. Already it's the best thing that ever happened to me. Well, besides meeting you, of course."

She looks up at me again. Just to give me an eye roll. But this time it's accompanied by a bemused smile which seems like a step in the right direction. My hand is still resting on her stomach, tracing light patterns. And now _her _hand moves to _my_ stomach and begins mimicking those patterns. Now since I don't have a tiny fetus growing in there, I'm not sure what her excuse is. And then her hand slips under my t-shirt, travels over my stomach and up to my chest. 

"What are you doing, Ab?" 

"Don't tell me you've forgotten how this goes already." 

"What happened to going slowly? Friends, remember? We were gonna work on being friends." 

"Okay. We'll be friends." She doesn't make any move to take her hand away from my chest. "Friends with benefits." 

"Abby … I don't think this is such a good idea." 

"Are you sure that's how you really feel?" Her hands slides quickly down my chest, over my stomach and slips inside my sweats. "Aha … that's what I thought. It's doesn't take much with you does it?" 

Well no. Not really. Not when she's involved. And having Abby here all curled up in my arms was pretty much all it took to inspire a mild stirring in my lap. Her hands running all over me took it up a notch.

"Abby …"

"It's just sex, Carter. Uh … quite obviously that's something we've done before." 

"It wouldn't be just sex, Abby."

"Okay, fantastic sex." 

"Haha. Very funny. You know what I'm getting at."

She sighs. This a sigh of exasperation. "Does it have to mean something?" She asks.

"With you? Always." 

"Hey, you started it. The least you could do is finish it. I mean, I'm pregnant. Hormonal. You don't want to see what happens if you defy me, do you?" 

I can't help but laugh. "No, not especially. But I didn't start it. You climbed into my bed."

"And you kept touching me."

"I was bonding with the baby." 

"Uh-huh. Well it reminded me a lot of how we got the baby … all those feathery little touches giving me goose bumps. Among other things." 

She nuzzles her head up against my neck and starts planting little kisses. I thought this side effect of pregnancy came later in the process. But hey, who am I to question this turn of events? And even if it is against my better judgment, I know I'm not going to be able to resist Abby's feminine wiles.

She rolls away from me and lays on her back next to me, looking up at me. She knows I'm watching her. 

Her hands slip under the covers, and I see her hips raise up off the bed. In a moment those baggy sweats appear, and then Abby drops them on the floor next to the bed. 

"Don't think I'll be needing those."

"What happened to being cold?"

"Suddenly I'm not cold anymore. In fact, I'm getting very _hot_."

Oh boy. Well, that makes two of us. I push the covers away, and Abby rolls back over toward me, throwing one of her legs over my body. She sits up, straddling my lap, her hands resting on my chest. Our eyes meet and she gives me a small smile, somehow both shy and seductive. She slowly, deliberately licks her lips while her hands roam over my chest and her hips wriggle against mine. 

God, I wonder if she has any idea what she does to me. She drives me crazy. I want to kiss her. I need to kiss her. For weeks, all I've wanted to do is pull her into my arms and feel her soft pouty lips against my own. 

I lean forward slowly, watching as Abby's eyelids flutter close in anticipation of the kiss. When our lips finally meet, I'm not disappointed. The same jolt of electricity that always runs through me is still there. Maybe even stronger than usual thanks to weeks that we've been apart. As the kiss deepens and intensifies, I pull Abby close to me, holding her tight, never wanting to let go. I smile around the kiss as I think about what happened that last time we did this. 

"What?" Abby asks, pulling away. 

"Nothing. I was just thinking that I've got everything I ever wanted right here with me now. You'll never know how happy you've made me." Gee, how did my hand get back on her stomach?

She smiles. And I swear I even see her blush as she looks away from me. "And completely by accident too." 

"Not completely. After all, you made a choice. The right choice. And now, having you here with me, makes me as happy as I've ever been."

"You know what would make me happy?" 

"What?" I ask, intrigued that I might gain some insight into Abby. 

"If you were wearing a lot less clothing." Oh, well. No great insight. But I guess I can live that request. 

She pulls my t-shirt up over my head and drops it on the floor. And then, between the two of us, we manage to get my sweat pants off. And that just leaves the t-shirt that Abby's wearing. 

"You can put your eyeballs back into your head." Abby says, catching sight of the look on my face when I pull her shirt off. 

"I know it's been awhile, but … these are new right?" I ask, gesturing to her enlarged breasts. Not exactly what I remember from when I saw them last. 

"I had a visit from the titty fairy." 

"Mmm .." Is about the only thing I can think of to say to that. 

"I take it you approve?" 

Hmm … trick question? "Well, I liked them fine just the way they were, but these are nice too." 

She giggles, watching me stare, transfixed, at her chest. "It's okay. You can touch them."

"They're not too sore?" 

"I think I'll live." 

Well, if that's how she feels about … I dive right in, gently but with much enthusiasm for the endeavor. It's only for a moment when I bring my mouth down to suckle at her new full breasts that I let myself get distracted by the reason for these changes in her body. I realize that in a few months, my child will be the one doing the suckling, only with a much different intent. I find myself pulling away, suddenly thinking that this doesn't seem quite right. 

"What now?" Abby asks. 

I shake my head, not quite knowing how to say it. She gives me an amused look before pushing my head back toward her chest. Her moans and sighs as my tongue gently captures a taut nipple encourage me to concentrate on what's before me. And this new curvier version of Abby is a quite a sight to behold. And I don't want to miss out on discovering a single inch of her new contours. 

Within moments we are both greedily exploring each other's bodies and for quite some time we are busy getting reacquainted, rediscovering each other. Still, the moment when we finally collapse against each other, sated and exhausted seems to come too soon. Abby lies against my chest, and I feel the rise and fall over her body as our breathing slows and returns to normal. 

After a little while, she untangles herself from me to reach down and pick up the shirt that I had been wearing earlier. She slips it over her head and then rolls off of me and on to her side, her back toward me. But she moves up close, lying next to me with her back against my side. And then her hand reaches over her back and across my chest to find my arm. She drags it back across her body, forcing me to roll over and curl up with her. Not something I'm going to complain about. I pull the covers up over us and then return my hand to its protective position over her belly, cuddling up close.

"Mmm … better." She says. 

I couldn't have said it better myself. This is the way it should be. Always. I can't imagine what I was thinking when I walked away from her or how I let the distance between us grow for so long. But now, maybe, we've got a second chance. Thanks, in part, to the baby we created. I gently pat Abby's belly and I realize that if it weren't this little one, who knows what would have happened between Abby and me. But here she is, wrapped up in my arms, just where she belongs. I don't know where we'll end up, but at least now there's a chance for us. And forever there will be a bond between us. I hold her just a little bit tighter, determined not to let go, and she snuggles up against me, her arms wrapping around mine. Yeah, this is exactly the way it should be.


	7. Morning After

__

Title: Finding A Way Home

Author: Andrea 

Rating: PG-13? I think. I don't remember. But that'll do for now. 

Summary: Abby's pregnant. Does that help? Hmm, probably not. Okay, let's see … last time Abby was "afraid" of the "storm" so she climbed into Carter's bed and well … you know what happened from there.

Author's Note: Thanks for the editing #2. **Thanks for all the reviews LANIE, you shout-out whore. ** Thanks to everyone else for all the reviews. Hope you enjoy this installment. It's kinda short. Deal with it.

*~*~*~*

Chapter 7: Morning After

I wake up surrounded by Carter. I'm curled up against his chest. His arms are wrapped around me. One of his legs is tossed over mine. His face is buried in my hair. His baby inside of me. Incredible. Crazy. Stupid. Wonderful. 

Unbelievable. 

I really can't believe that it's happening. Am I really lying here in his arms? Waking up next to him? I didn't think I'd ever have this again. It seems too good to be true. And it probably is. It probably won't last. He'll wake up and come to his senses. If he hadn't been so overwhelmed about the baby, he probably would never have let last night happen. But that's okay, I'll just enjoy this while I can. And savor every last second. A happy time to remember later. I snuggle my head up against his shoulder and breathe in his scent. How many times in these last few weeks did I think to myself that I would do anything for one more moment like this? And here it is. Even if it's fleeting, I know it's something I'll cherish forever. No matter what happens, I'll always have this moment. 

And I'll always have this baby. The baby. I smile thinking about it. I'm gonna have his baby. Our baby. I'll be somebody's mommy. The thought is terrifying. God, I hope I'm doing the right thing. But I'm doing it. No turning back now. No matter what. So I'd better do whatever I can to get this right. I'm just so scared that I'm gonna mess it up. The one thing that I can't mess up. The one thing that I can't go back and fix. There's no do-overs in motherhood. Once you fuck it up, it's fucked up for good. Oh, God. Okay, Abby, calm down. No use freaking out now. One step at a time. One day at a time. And today I'm enjoying lying here feeling safe and warm. And nauseous. And it's not going away. Dammit. 

I extricate myself from Carter carefully. I creep across the room quietly. Good thing every room in this house comes with its own bathroom. I wouldn't want to get lost at a time like this. I take a deep breath and try to fight the queasiness. I'll drink some water and see if that helps. Seems like a good idea at first. But after about the fourth cup full my stomach suddenly revolts. I'm still barfing up all that water when I realize that John's there behind me, smoothing back my hair and rubbing my shoulders. I flush the toilet and slump against him, both of us sitting on the bathroom floor.

"Good morning?" He says sheepishly, cautiously as he plants a kiss against my temple. 

"Yeah, sure. Great."

"Does this happen every day?" He asks.

"No." I shake my head. "Not usually. I mean, I feel kinda queasy off and on most days. But I don't usually throw up. The other day at work … it was just because of the smell. At least you won't have to worry about me falling off the wagon while I'm incubating your baby. I can't even stand the smell of the stuff." 

"Abby," he starts, his tone sounding like he's about to reprimand me. But then he seems to abruptly stop. When he starts again his tone is different. "You should try to keep something on your stomach all the time. Eat lots of small meals or snacks. Bland stuff. Dry toast, crackers, stuff like that. It's supposed to help."

"Yeah." Sometimes that's easier said than done.

"You think you can eat now? Maybe some … toast." 

"I don't know. I'll try." 

"Good." He smiles at me and then propels me to my feet. I'm wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt, he's wearing a pair of a baggy sweats. Yep, seems like appropriate breakfast attire here in the Carter castle. I just hope none of the servants or slaves or whatever are here yet. 

But as we troop down to the kitchen, I don't catch sight of any maids or butlers or random gardeners lurking about spying on us, so I figure that we are alone. 

"It's her day off." John says, catching me looking around.

"Whose?"

"The housekeeper's."

"So we're alone?"

"Essentially." I raise my eyebrows at him. "No one's gonna show up and join us for breakfast. But there are always people around. On the grounds. You know." He shrugs. But no, I don't know. Can't imagine really.

"Weird." It's about the only comment I can think of.

"You get used to it." He says with a shrug. 

"I guess." I say, not really convinced. 

He smiles over at me as I sit down at the table in the kitchen. It's nice. More homey than I remembered. More cozy than I would have expected. 

"How many pieces?" He asks as he heads over to some contraption that is supposedly a toaster but looks more like an integral part of the space shuttle. "Abby?" 

Oh, he really wanted an answer. How many pieces of toast does he expect me to scarf down after I've just puked up most of my insides? "Forty-seven." I tell him.

"Okay, one it is." 

After a few minutes he comes over to the table with our toast and milk.

"Mmm, yum." I say sarcastically.

"Your favorite meal?"

"My usual meal, these days. It's getting kind of old."

"Well, I've got something to make it a little more exciting." 

"What can possible make toast exciting?"

"Gamma's famous raspberry jam."

"Gamma's? Did she make it?" He looks at me and then starts chuckling. What do I know about what rich grandmothers do with their spare time.

"No. It was just her favorite. And when I was kid, whenever I was sick or upset, she would make me toast with her special jam on it. She said it had healing powers. When Bobby was sick from the chemo, it was all he ever ate. Gamma would make it for him herself. Six times a day if he asked for it. Even if he was only going to eat a bite or two. But she didn't mind. Whatever she could to take care of him. Or any of us. She always wanted to do whatever she could to make her family happy." His voice has taken on a wistful, sad quality as he talks about his grandmother.

"You miss her a lot, huh?"

"Everyday. Still. Of course, I still miss my grandfather. I still miss Bobby. I guess it never really goes away. But when Gamma died … well, first it was Grandpa's death and then my parents divorce. Then Gamma. I felt like my family was just disappearing right in front of my eyes." There are tears in his eyes and a faraway look on his face. But then he turns and smiles at me. "But now … now there's this baby. It's like starting over. Making a whole new family." 

He takes my hand and smiles at me. All I see in his face is happiness. He's really happy. Because of me. Well, because I'm having his baby. It feels good to be able to give him this kind of joy. But it's scary too. What if I can't live up to his expectations? A family? Who? Us? I'm not sure I'm ready for that. I can barely get my head around the fact that there's a tiny little life just starting out inside of me. I'm going to have a _baby_. I barely have the resources to deal with that right now. I'm certainly not prepared to give Carter that picture perfect family he always wanted. At least not right now. I can't make him any promises beyond the one I've already made -- to see this baby safely into the world. Other than that … I just don't know. I hope he understands that. I hope last night didn't give him the wrong the idea. Wonderful as it was, I'm not ready for it to mean forever. 

"John …" I say. Because he should know how I feel. Where we stand.

"Yeah?" He looks at me with such happiness. Such guileless innocence. And I can't do it. I can't take away his dreams. He's been through a lot and I can see how much he needs this right now. 

So I just I smile at him. "We should get going. I don't want to be late for my appointment." 

"Oh yeah. That's right. Do you think we'll get to see the baby?"

"A sonogram? I don't know." 

"Maybe we'll get to hear the heartbeat. Ya think?" He looks so excited. His eyes are bright, and I'd swear he's glowing. 

"Maybe." I say. "Only one way to find out." 

******

Two hours later we're in an exam room in OB, waiting for the doctor. I'm perched on the edge of the table, decked out in a stylish hospital gown. What a treat. 

"Nervous?" Carter asks.

"What?" He reaches out and put his hand on my knee, stopping my somewhat frantic tapping. "Oh. Maybe a little."

"I'm sure everything is fine."

"I hope so. Ugh, I hate this." His eyebrows draw together, and he looks worried. "Waiting for the exam." I explain.

"Oh. You hate the waiting or the exam?"

"The waiting. Although the exam isn't too much fun either. It's never especially comfortable having someone who's practically a stranger poking around down there." 

"Oh, you should have said something, I could have done the exam the exam myself." 

"You've done quite enough poking around down there, thanks." 

"I don't hear you complaining about it much."

"It is what got me into this mess to begin with."

"You weren't bothered by that at all last night." He says as he leans over and places a little kiss on my neck. 

"John … don't start." 

"But I can't resist. It's this alluring gown that you're wearing." 

"Shut up." I laugh and roll my eyes. He leans around and catches my lips … just as the door opens. 

"Don't let us interrupt." Dr. Coburn says, after clearing her throat. She and the nurse have just come in the room, and I look over just in time to see them exchange glances.

"Sorry." I say, elbowing John none-too-gently, encouraging him to move away. 

"Abby." Dr. Coburn says with a note of surprise in her voice. Way to read the chart, Janet. "And Dr. Carter."

He smiles at her proudly. I almost expect him to puff up his chest and strut around like a rooster. I, on the other hand, feel kind of embarrassed. Kinda like I'm back in high school sneaking in my bedroom window with my underpants in my pocket. I mean, I'm here because I'm pregnant. Hey, guess what everybody? I had sex. Unprotected sex, at that. And I got caught. So to speak. 

"So you're here for your first obstetrical visit?" Coburn asks.

"Yeah." No, I'm here because I can't get enough of those pelvic exams. 

"I see you had blood work done." She says. "Last week. In the ER. Was there a problem?"

"No, I just wanted to make sure everything was okay." 

"Well everything checks out fine. But you should have come here. This is one of those times that you want a specialist. You should know that." Oh, a lecture, just what I was hoping for. "Let's take a look. Lie down. Feet up in the stirrups." Well, crap. As Carter once said to me, 'you could at least buy me dinner first.' Wham, bam, thank you ma'am it is, I guess. She has such an incredible bedside manner. Carter catches my eye and makes a face. Thanks, that helps. 

"Well," I say, feeling the need to defend myself. "I wasn't sure what I was going to do." 

"So this was unplanned?" She asks. That's one way to put it. 

"It was a surprise." Carter says, picking up my hand and giving it a little squeeze. 

"Well, since this was …unintentional, is there anything we need to be concerned about? Anything that may have happened before you realized you were pregnant? Medications, drugs, alcohol, nicotine, exposure to illnesses or toxic substances?" She stops poking around on the inside and lets me put my legs down. And then she promptly starts poking around on the outside. Hate to tell you, but my uterus is not your stress relief ball. Jesus. Get used to it, Abby, this is just the beginning of your body being used as a punching bag.

"No." Seems like I gave up the worst of my bad habits just in time. Well, the smoking and the drinking anyway. And my other bad habits aren't the kind of thing that will endanger a pregnancy. Self-deprecating sarcasm doesn't really pose any risks to the fetus. But I'm not sure why she's asking anyway, I thought I already checked the no box on all those things when I filled out the thirty page form. "Well, I'm exposed to _illness_ on a regular basis, but nothing especially harmful."

"And how have you been feeling? Have you been sick at all? Any illnesses? Morning sickness?"

"I haven't been ill at all. A little morning sickness. Pretty mild. I'm queasy a lot." 

"She threw up this morning." Carter adds helpfully. I peed seven times, too. Do you want to report that as well? 

"Have you been throwing up frequently?"

"No."

"You're able to keep something down, generally?"

"Yeah, I've only thrown up a couple times." 

"Well, try to eat several small meals each day. Stick with bland foods if you're feeling queasy." Coburn suggests.

"See?" Carter says. "I told her the same thing." 

"It's good advice. Okay, Abby, everything looks good. I assume I don't need to tell you to all the things to avoid -- caffeine, over-the-counter drugs, amusement park rides, high-risk patients. And I suppose you know you should get plenty of rest, gentle exercise, eat a balanced diet. Do you have any questions?" I shake my head 'no.' "Well then we'll get you some prenatal vitamins and let you get out of here."

"I already have some. I switched from my regular multivitamin a couple weeks ago when I took the test." 

"A multivitamin. A good idea for every woman." I know, why do you think I did it? "And we'll make sure you've got a script for the prenatal vitamins so you won't have to raid the supplies downstairs." I give her a smile and she smiles back. "Congratulations to you both. And we'll see you back here in about a month." She and the nurse turn to leave. 

"Wait, is that it?" Carter sounds rather disappointed. Coburn looks slightly confused. "No sonogram?"

"Well, it's not really necessary. I don't usually do the first sonogram until the second trimester unless there's a reason to do one earlier. "

"What about the heartbeat? Can we listen for it?" If only he had a tail, he'd be wagging it in gleeful anticipation.

"Well, I suppose … what are you? About eight weeks? We might be able to pick up heart tones now." Good thing I didn't bother to get up. The nurse finds the Doppler and brings it over. Dr. Coburn squirts a bit of nice, cold gel on my bare stomach and presses the device against my skin. First we just hear the rustling of equipment, but then there's steady _ga-gung, ga-gung_. 

I look over at John to see his face break into a huge grin. "That's it, Abby. That's our baby's heartbeat." 

"Yeah." Wow. My baby's heartbeat. It's really in there. It's really a little person growing inside of me. God, and to think that yesterday at this time … well, everything I did yesterday, I kept thinking 'next time I take a shower, I won't be pregnant' or 'This is the last time I'll wake up pregnant.' And look at me now. I woke up pregnant once again, after all. I'm still pregnant. And now I'm lying here listen to the most beautiful sound I think I've ever heard. And I almost gave it up. Oh, God. At this moment I'm terribly grateful that something, whatever it was, stopped me from going into that _other _exam room. I'm still not convinced that what I'm doing is the right thing, but this certainly goes a long way toward making me think that maybe I am. No matter what else, I'm bringing a new life into this world. I close my eyes and say a silent prayer to just let it be a good one. Just let my baby's life be happy. That's all that really matters to me now.

"Wow," Carter is saying. "Listen to that. It's _fast_." 

"Heart rate is … 158." Coburn tells us. 

"The girl heartbeat." Carter says and gives me a nudge.

"Yeah, like that means anything." I say with a sniff, trying to get my emotions under control. 

Carter shrugs and smiles at me. Then his face gets a little more somber. "Are you okay?"

I nod and bite my lip. "Yeah. It's just …" I shrug, not knowing how to say it.

"It's kinda overwhelming, isn't it?"

I nod again, wiping at the tears that have gathered in the corners of my eyes. 

"Are you really okay?" Carter asks me again after we are once again alone in the room. 

"Just thinking about … how different today could have been." 

"It's in the past, Abby. Let's just leave it there." 

"I know. It's just … thank you." 

"For what?"

"For stopping me."

"I didn't stop you, Abby. God knows I wanted to, but I didn't know how. No, something inside of you … that's what stopped you." 

"Something inside me … " I can't help but smile. "That's kinda funny." He gives me a blank look. "You know, because the baby is inside me … never mind." I wave my hand, dismissing the thought. Just one of those stupid things that grabs you for no reason. 

"Well, the baby is what stopped you right? I mean, you said you kept seeing its face. Imagining what it would look like." 

"Yeah. And it always had your big, brown eyes."

"Abby … you have big brown eyes, too."

"But these were your eyes."

"How could you tell?"

"I would know your eyes anywhere." 

"Oh. I wonder if the baby will really have my eyes." 

"I hope so."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"So besides the eyes, what did this baby that you kept imagining look like?"

"Oh, I didn't just imagine it. I saw it in my dreams too. But I guess … it looked like … us. I don't know, it just seemed very familiar. Like a face I would recognize no matter what." 

"Well, in a few months, when the baby's born, we'll get to see if you do recognize its little face. Of course, why wouldn't you? If I get my way, it'll come out looking just like its mother."

"Oh. God." I look at him. " Its mother. That's me."

"Yep." 

"I'm gonna be a mother." This is revelation that keeps hitting me over and over again but has yet to sink in. Probably because it still kind of terrifies me. 

"Abby," he says, leaning over to pat my belly. "You already are." 

And I think that's the scariest thought of all. 


	8. Time and Space

__

Title: Finding a Way Home

Author: Andrea

Author's Note: Yeah, so don't start expecting updates this fast all the time. Just consider this a windfall. Thanks Cath and Kel for the editing, such as it was. Thanks for all the reviews for chapter 7, LANIE, and everyone else. More where that came from would certainly be appreciated.

Chapter 8: Time and Space

After we're done in OB, we head downstairs. Carter has a shift starting shortly. Technically, I'm off today, but I figure if I show up, they'll let me work. 

We walk into the lounge and find Susan standing there, stirring her coffee. When she looks up and sees us, her jaw drops on to the floor. 

"Abby!" She says, obviously stunned. Am I naked? Because this is like that dream where you leave your house with no clothes on and everyone stares at you in precisely this way. No, I seem to be fully dressed. "Abby, what are you doing here? Is something wrong?" 

Wrong? Oh, that's right, she doesn't know. She left me a message yesterday on my voice mail telling me that Carter was looking for me, but I never did talk to her. I give her a little half smile.

"Nothing that seven months and a trip to labor and delivery won't cure." 

Susan gasps, practically drops her coffee. "Really? You're still pregnant? You're keeping it?"

"Yeah." I nod. Behind me, Carter is lightly rubbing my shoulders … and grinning. I can't see it, but I can feel it.

"We're gonna have a baby!" John tells her, and then I can hear the grin too.

"Oh, you guys, this is so exciting!" She puts down her coffee in favor of throwing her arms around me. And apparently trying to crush me to death. I was enjoying that shoulder massage from Carter a lot more than this.

"Ugh. Susan. Can't breathe." Not to mention she's flattening my poor, tender, swollen boobs right to my chest. Because that doesn't hurt or anything. "Ouch." 

"Oh. Sorry." She says, moving away.

"Hug Carter instead," I suggest. "His boobs aren't as sore as mine." 

"I'm sorry. I forgot." 

"No problem."

"You need a sign." Carter suggests. 

"Like what? 'Don't Touch' across my chest?"

"Yeah."

"Because people randomly walk up to me and feel me up."

"Abby?" Susan asks. "Did you forget where we work?" 

"Good point. Still. Not exactly something I want to announce to the world."

"Speaking of announcements … you need a shirt that says 'baby on board.'" Another helpful suggestion from Carter. 

"How about if I get one that says 'I'm with stupid' and then I stand next to you?" I throw back at him. 

"Haha." He says. But he's smiling. So is Susan. So am I. Until a wave of queasiness washes over me. I plop down on the couch.

"Ugh." I say with a grimace. "I hate this part." 

"Are you feeling sick?" Carter asks. I nod. "Are you going to throw up?"

"I hope not." I'm considering it, though. 

"You probably just need to eat." He's gotta be kidding. My stomach is flip-flopping ninety miles an hour and he wants me to put something in it? 

"Uh …" I say. 

"Just stay right there. I'll go get you something. I'll be right back." He comes over and kisses my cheek before practically running out the door. 

"So?" Susan asks.

"What?"

"Come on, Abby. Spill it." 

"Spill what?" 

"What's going on?"

"It's called morning sickness, Susan. Maybe you've heard of it." 

"That's not what I meant." 

"Oh."

"Abby!" 

"What?"

"What do you mean 'what?' You're not really going to sit there and act like nothing's happened are you?" I shrug. What does she want, a news bulletin? "Abby … you're having a baby. And you and Carter are back together. And you're acting like it's any other day." 

"Whoa, wait a minute. Carter and I aren't …" 

"What? Back together?" 

"Yeah. I mean, no. No, we're not." 

"Are you sure?" 

"Yes, I'm sure."

"Because the way Carter was looking at you, touching you, kissing you …"

"It was a peck on the cheek." 

"And three days ago you would have punched him if he'd gotten that close to you."

"Okay … so … things are … better between us. But that doesn't mean we're together." 

"So you're not sleeping with him?"

"Well …"

"What?" Her eyes are wide and almost as excited as Carter's have been all morning. 

"Maybe just a little bit." 

"Oh. My. God. So you are back together." 

"No …"

"No?" She asks incredulously. "So let me get this straight. I already know that he's been in love with you forever. And I know that you're in love with him. You're having sex with each other. And … oh yeah, you're having his baby. But you're not together? Abby, you are insane."

"It's not like that. I mean the sex was … well … you know, it just sort of happened." 

"That happens to you two a lot, doesn't it?" 

"Well, no. I mean, we knew what we were doing, but … I don't know. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea." 

"Why? You don't want to be with him?" 

"More like he doesn't want to be with me."

"What? Abby … of course he wants to be with you. I saw how he was watching you. I saw that smile on his face. Clearly, _he_ thinks you two are back together. And seems pretty happy about it." 

"Susan. Carter is … clueless." She looks at me and shakes her head. "He's living in some fantasy world. You know, where the two of us … the _three_ of us are going to live happily ever after."

"And that would be a fantasy because …" 

"Because it's never gonna happen." 

"See … this is where you lose me. Why can't it happen? I thought it's what you want. It's obviously what Carter wants."

"No. No, it's not. It's not what Carter wants. It what he _thinks_ he wants. He doesn't want me, he just wants … something. Someone. He wants a family. And I'm giving him a baby, so I'm … convenient. And right now, he so excited about becoming a father, I don't think he can separate _me_ from the mother of his child."

"Isn't that the same thing?"

"Technically? Yes. But … I mean … if he wants me at all, it's because I'm having his baby, not because he wants me for me." 

"You don't really believe that." 

"He walked away from _me._ And suddenly now …" I look away, stare off into space, try not to cry. "It's all an illusion … and someday he's going to realize that. And he'll leave again." 

He'll leave. Eventually. It's inevitable. I'll drive him away. Or he'll get sick of me just like before and decide that he needs his space. So I can't let myself buy into this 'happily ever after' bullshit. It's just asking for trouble. Because if I let myself believe it, just to have him walk away … I don't know what it'll do to me. And what if I'm not strong enough? What will that mean for the baby? It's too dangerous. I can't let myself … what? Fall in love with him? Too late. Trust him again? I know he believes that he wants to be with me, but what if he's just fooling himself? He's says he's not going anywhere this time, but how can he be sure? What if it just doesn't work, no matter how much we might want it to? No, better to be safe than sorry.

"Abby?" Susan's been watching me stare at the wall, I guess, while I'm lost in thought.

"I just don't know if I can believe in it." I tell her.

"In what?"

"Any of it. Living happily ever after. White picket fences. Mini-vans and soccer practice. I don't know if it's something I can have. I don't know if I can do it." 

"Maybe you just need some time. There've been a lot of changes in your life the past few weeks. The past few days especially. Maybe once you get used to some of it, things won't seem so overwhelming." 

"Yeah, maybe." But I'm not banking on it, that's for sure. 

The door opens and Carter comes back in, bearing my snack. "I got you some peanut butter crackers and some apple juice. I wasn't sure if you were up for a whole meal or not. But we can go down to cafeteria in little while if this sits okay." 

"This is fine." I tell him. Crackers and apple juice. Well, the baby ought to like that. 

"Mmm, looks good." Susan says. 

"Stop eyeing up my crackers, Susan. Some Godmother you'll make -- trying to take the food right out of the baby's mouth." 

"Me? Godmother?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, we might have to actually locate a church and then go inside for that. But I hear those things are done everyday. But even if we don't get that far … well, if not in fact, at least in spirit."

"Oh. I'm touched. But it really just means that I have to buy the kid impressive gifts, right?" 

"Pretty much." I tell her. 

Carter's just standing watching the exchange, looking amused. "Susan," he starts, "There's a trauma coming in any minute now. Sounds like a nasty MVA, I might need some help."

"Okay." Susan says, grabbing one of my crackers as she heads out the door. 

"Finish your snack and stay here until you're feeling better okay?" Carter asks me. 

"So I should stay here for about a year, then?" He smiles and shakes his head at me as he follows Susan out into the ER. No sooner does the door swing closed behind him, than the other door swings open and in walks Chen. 

"Abby." She says, giving me a smile. "Congratulations." 

"On what?" I ask, a wave of panic running through me. 

She laughs. "On the baby, of course." 

"How do you know?" 

"John told me." 

"What? He did what?!? Wait, how is that possible? He just walked out the door. What's he doing? Waving a sign?" 

"I talked to him a few minutes ago. He was getting you juice or something."

"I can't believe him." I mutter to myself. Then I turn to Chen. "Do me a favor? I don't really want this getting around … you know?"

"Well, I won't tell anyone. But I won't have to."

"Everyone knows already? How?"

"Probably because John is telling everyone." 

"He's what? Oh my God, he is so dead." I burst out of the lounge, and I swear, all talk at admit stops. And every head turns to stare at me. No one says a word. "Ahh!" I say, throwing my hands in the air. Sometimes I really hate this place. I'm barreling down the hall, looking for Carter when I hear Chuny's voice behind me.

"Ooh, Abby. Girl, I didn't know you had it in you." To get pregnant? "We haven't had anyone get caught doin' the nasty around here since Kovac learned to keep it in his pants." What? What is she talking about? I mean, yeah, I'm pregnant. So yeah, I must have … done the nasty at one point. And I guess they can all put that together. Is that what she means by getting caught? I just stand and stare at her for a minute before I shake my head in befuddlement. Has the whole world gone mad? I turn and barge into the trauma room.

"John Truman Carter! What the hell do you think you're doing?" Hands on my hips, I use my very best I'm-pissed-as-hell voice. But, apparently, to no avail. 

"Trying to save this guy's life. You think you could give me a hand?" Is his only reply. 

So I put my anger aside for the time being and pitch in with the trauma. We've just managed to get the patient stabilized when Pratt comes strolling into the room. 

"Hey," He says, clapping Carter on the back. "I hear you knocked up Abby. Nice." Pratt gives Carter a wink and smile. Like they are sharing some great joke. Carter's got that puffed up peacock look going on again. 

"Yeah," I say, turning to Carter. "Way to go, Stud." I slug him on the arm for good measure.   


"Ow." 

"Did that hurt?"

"Yeah."

"Good!" 

"And then getting your freak on up in OB this morning … kinky." Pratt says. "Didn't know an uptight dude like you would be into that. Now Abby, on the other hand …" He chuckles. Looks over at me and grins. What? OB? What the hell is he talking about? What's going on now?

"OB?" Haleh asks. "I heard it was the lounge." What? 

"What?" I demand.

"Oh Abby, don't pretend like you don't know what we're talking about." Haleh says.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" 

"Mmm-hmm." Haleh gives me a look that plainly says she doesn't believe me for a minute. "Everyone knows that you Dr. Carter were doin' the deed in the lounge not a half hour ago. Honey, I think it's great that you two finally got back together. It's about time."

"It wasn't the lounge." Pratt says. "It was OB. An exam room. Some doc and a hot little nurse walked in on them." 

"What? What is wrong with you? We weren't 'doin' the deed' or 'getting our freak on' anywhere!" But I suspect the 'hot little nurse' might have something to do with this rumor.

"Uh-huh. Sure. Whatever you say, Abby." Haleh gives me that same skeptical look. Carter is standing speechless. He's blushing but not saying a word. I could almost think that he started these rumors himself. 

"Carter!" 

"What?"

"Say something!"

"Like what?"

"Tell them it's not true!"

"It's not true." He tells them. Haleh gives him the look. "It's not. I mean, maybe I kissed her up in OB, but that's it." Oh great, John. Like that's gonna make it any better.

"So it was just a little make-out session?" Haleh asks.

"So how far did you get?" Pratt asks Carter.

"Oh my God! I can't believe this!"

"Abby .." Carter starts.

"Shut up!" And then I turn to stomp out of the room. 

"Whoa!" I hear Pratt say. "Nasty mood swings. I wouldn't want to be you, man." I assume he's talking to Carter. 

I turn on my heel. "You shut up too, Pratt!" I yell. Basically because I can. And really, who wouldn't want to? "You know, I'm pregnant, not deaf. I can hear you when I'm standing in the room! Abby is in the room, no need to talk about me like I'm not here. And no need to talk about my personal life at all. So just mind your own business and leave me alone!"

"Abby …" Carter says. 

I narrow my eyes at him and give him a really good death ray stare. I can think of several choice things that I'd like to scream at _him_, but in the end I refrain. I push my way into the empty suture room instead. There I can burst into tears all alone.

"Abby …" Carter says behind me, following me into the room. 

"Didn't you hear me?" I ask. "Leave me alone."

"You're mad at me?" He asks, sounding surprised and hurt.

"What do you think?" I say, crossing my arms and moving to sit on a gurney far, far away.

"What did I do?" 

"Besides _knock me up_ and then tell everyone about it?"

"They were gonna find out soon enough, Ab."

"That doesn't mean I wanted them to find out today." 

"Are you really that upset about it?" 

"Yes. You announced our business -- our personal, private business -- to everyone here." My voice has risen incrementally as the conversation has gone on. And by now I'm pretty much screeching at him.

"So? I mean, it's a good thing. What's wrong with sharing our good news with our friends?"

"_Everyone _knows. I walk by and everyone stops and stares at me."

"You better get used to it." He's laughing as if he thinks this is funny. It's not funny. "Pretty soon, everywhere you go, you'll be announcing our news." Well, lucky me. 

"You could have at least consulted me before you started telling people. Sometimes you can be such an inconsiderate jerk. Did you even stop and think about my feelings?" 

"I should have consulted you?" He sounds kinda angry himself now. 

"Yeah."

"I should have thought about your feelings?" Now he sounds really angry.

"Yeah." But that's okay, I'm just as mad. 

"That's rich, Abby. Coming from you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" 

"You didn't exactly _consult_ me … you didn't exactly consider _my_ feelings when you when you were just gonna go get rid of our baby." 

I can't believe he said that. I'm so shocked that I stop crying. I get strangely calm, in fact. "So much for leaving it in the past." I say, my voice dripping with bitterness. 

"Abby … I'm sorry. I didn't mean that." 

"Yes, you did."

"No, Abby, I just …"

"Don't. Don't try to make it better. You said it because it's how you feel. And you're right. Just because I apologized for it already doesn't mean that you have to get over it."

"Abby …"

"No, Carter. It's okay. Really, it's better this way. I knew … this wasn't gonna work. Not now. We're not ready." 

"I said I was sorry for what I said. And I meant that. And I'm sorry for not asking you before I started telling people about the baby." He sits down next to me on the gurney and rubs my arm lightly. "I sorry, okay? Forgive me? Please?"

I get up from the gurney and walk across the room, my arms still crossed protectively over my chest, providing the only source of comfort I can find right now. I turn and look at him.

I shake my head. "I'm sorry … I just …I can't."

"What? Forgive me? Look Abby, I know you're upset, but it was one careless remark, and I didn't mean it. And I'm sorry everyone knows our news, but considering the rumor mill, I think they would have found out anyway. I know you're mad at the moment, but …"

"No. I'm not mad. Not anymore. I just can't do this right now." 

"Do what? Argue?"

"No. This … Us."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying it's your turn."

"For?"

"It's your turn to give _me_ some time. And some space. I can't handle this right now. I can't give you what you want. Not now. Maybe not ever. I just …" And then, to my horror, I'm crying again. I try to hide it, I try to stop it. But I can't. And then Carter's there, pulling me into his arms. 

"It's okay. Abby, don't cry. It's okay." God, why does everything have to be so complicated? This feels so right, being here in his arms like this. Why can't I just let myself give in to it? Why do I have to make everything so hard?

I pull away from Carter's embrace and wipe my tears. I take a deep breath. "I just need some time to figure things out, okay?" 

"But Abby …"

"Please?"

"All right. If it's really what you want." 

"It's what I need. But … don't feel like you have to wait around for me. I just … can't make you any promises right now."

"What about …"

"What about what?" I ask him.

"The baby."

"What about the baby?"

"Well, you're not gonna change your mind, are you? I mean, that's not why you were so upset that everyone found out, is it?" 

"No. I'm not gonna change my mind. I told you that. I wouldn't have said anything to you if I wasn't sure. It's the one promise I made to you, and I intend to keep it." I can't blame him for worrying though. I'm taking away the rest of his dreams, why not smash that one to smithereens too? "We'll work something out … about the baby. And I want you to be involved … with the pregnancy. Of course. But I need to work on one thing at a time. And being pregnant is enough for right now. I can't deal with all this other stuff just yet."

"Can't we at least be friends?" He asks, sounding kind of desperate but giving me a winsome smile.

"I'm not sure 'friends' works with us anymore."

"Couldn't we at least try?" 

"Maybe. Someday. But for now I just need some space."

"Okay. You win." He says with a flat, defeated voice. I win? No, I don't think so. This must be the definition of hollow victory. "You win, Abby. I'll leave you alone."

"Carter …" 

But it's too late. He's already out the door. 


	9. Maybes

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Title: Finding A Way Home

Author: Andrea 

Rating: PG-13. For the moment. But I think I'll bump it up to R with the next update. Not for anything specific … but because there have been some issues with language and such in my *R-rated* fics. So I can only imagine the potential for people getting their undies in a twist is the fic is rated PG-13. And let's face it … sooner or later my dirrrty mind will get the best of me and all those naughty words will come spilling out. But I wanted to let everyone know about the change before I go ahead and do it. So be sure to make a note that from now on, this one will be in the R section. 

Summary: Not necessary. This chapter will catch you up on anything you may have forgotten. 

Author's Note: Thanks to COURTNEY, CATHERINE, and KELLY for being such excellent fic bitches. Thanks for contributing the line, KELLY. Thanks for the suggestions, CATHERINE. Thanks for the nagging and the extremely detailed reviewing, COURTNEY. Thanks for reviewing every chapter, LANIE. Thanks to everyone else for the reviews. I'd love to read your thoughts about this one. And if you'd like to read the next chapter soon … believe me, you want to tell me your thoughts.

*~*~*~*

Finding A Way Home

Chapter 9: Maybes

"I'm sorry about this, Abby."

"It's okay." 

"No, really. I hate to inconvenience you like this." 

"Mom, it's no problem." I tell her, as she makes her way into my apartment. 

"Well … I've gotten you up in the middle of the night, interrupting a good night's sleep. I hope I'm not interrupting anything else." She walks a little further into the room, and looks around.

"No, you're not interrupting anything. Not even a good night's sleep." 

"Oh Abby, you're not addicted to those infomercials again, are you? Staying up to all hours? You really need to take better care of yourself."

"Mom, I'm fine. I'm not staying up all night watching TV. I just couldn't sleep. Insomnia, I guess. Besides, it's not really all that late." 

"It's two o'clock in the morning." 

"Yeah, and if I was working tonight, I'd be right in the middle of my shift."

"That job. The way they switch your schedule all the time, it's a wonder you can ever sleep. You don't have to work in the morning, do you?" 

"No, I'm off." 

"Good. That's good. Still, I feel just awful about this."

"Don't worry about it." I say, getting a little exasperated by her apologizing. "Fog happens. I'm sure you'll be able to get a flight out tomorrow. And if you can't, you'll just stay here." 

"I shouldn't have called and bothered you, though. I could have just stayed at the airport."

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm glad you called. And it really is no trouble." I assure her. "Are you tired? I'll find you something you can sleep in, and you can take the bed."

"Actually, I slept on the plane to Chicago. I'm tired, but I don't think I can sleep yet."

"Something to eat?"

"Maybe some tea." She says. "As long as you have decaf."

"That's about all I have these days." I say idly as I get up and put the kettle on. 

"You off caffeine? It's not one of these crazy diet fads is it? Everyone is on some kind of crazy diet these days."

"Do I look like I need to be on a diet?" I ask, wondering if my … 'delicate condition' is starting to show in obvious ways.

"Of course not. Just because you've put on a few pounds, there's no need to diet." So something is noticeable. "I mean, Abby, you look great." She continues. "Your hair, your skin … you're just …"

"Glowing?" I suggest. I'm gonna have to tell her sometime. No time like the present, I guess.

She knits her brow in confusion, probably wondering why I chose that particular word. I reach up into a high cabinet for the tea. I can feel my shirt riding up, and in conjunction with my low slung pants, I must be showing off my newly rounded belly. From the look on Maggie's face, I'm assuming that it didn't escape her. 

"Abby?" There's an unmistakable lilt of excitement in her voice. 

"Yeah?" I ask, the picture of innocence. For some reason, I can't bring myself to tell her what I'm sure she already knows. And I don't know why, exactly. After all, I'm a grown woman. I don't have to fear my mother's wrath or beg for her approval. Besides, knowing Maggie, I'm sure she will approve of this situation. 

"Well … sweetie. You look a little … round. And as you said yourself, you're glowing. And then there's the whole no caffeine thing. Are you …? Well … I mean … You're pregnant, aren't you?" 

No point in trying to hide it. Soon enough that won 't be an option. I take a deep breath. 

"Uh-huh." I nod, my hand straying to my little poochy belly, still easily concealed under my clothing, but most definitely there. "Three months. Three and a half, actually." 

"Oh." Mom claps her hands up to her mouth, gasping. I see the tears in her eyes as she looks over at me. "I'm gonna be a grandma?" 

I just nod, biting my lower lip. 

"Oh sweetie." She gets up and comes over to me, pulling me into a hug. "Come on, let's go sit down."

"What about the tea?" I ask.

"Forget about the tea." She reaches over and turns off the burner. Then drags me over to the couch. "So tell me everything." 

What's to tell? I had sex and got pregnant. Oops. 

"Well …" I start, not really knowing what to say. 

"How's John taking it? Oh, I'll bet he's excited. Oh my God, are you two getting married?"

"We broke up." 

"What? Why? Because you're pregnant?" She sounds a little stunned. Guess I should have mentioned that before. 

"No, we broke up before that."

"Before you found out?" 

"Yeah. Well, even before I got pregnant, really." 

She looks quite taken aback. Shocked, really. "So then it's not … well … who's the father?" 

I know I shouldn't do it, but I can't resist. "Oh, I don't know. Some guy I met in a bar. Um, Harry, Barry … I'm not too sure about his name." Okay, now she just looks stunned. 

"Uh …" Speechless. My mother? 

"Mom! I'm just kidding. It's Carter's. Of course it's Carter's." 

"But you just said you broke up. And _then_ you got pregnant." 

"Well, that's pretty much how it happened."

"Well, now I'm confused. How did you manage _that_? Or was it … what do you kids call it … a booty call?" Oh, I know my mother did not just say that. I could have gone the rest of my life without hearing Maggie use the term 'booty call.' 

"Um … not exactly." I tell her. "We were sort of … on a break, I guess. Or that's what I thought, anyway. Then he showed up here one night, crawled into my bed and … Well, anyway, things were already … strained, but then they just got worse. And it wasn't long until he was saying he wanted some space, some time."

"And?" What does she mean, 'and?'

"And … he didn't want to be with me anymore. So he packed up his stuff and left."

"So …that's when you decided to break up?" 

"Well, what's to decide? He left. It doesn't get much more definitive than that." 

"And that's why he left? Because he was … breaking up with you?" 

"Well, he wasn't going out for pizza. He couldn't stand to be around me."

"I'm sure it wasn't that, Abby. You said he just wanted some space. We all have times when we need to … figure things out for ourselves."

"Yeah, but he didn't want me around while he was figuring things out. I was just … a burden to him. So he left. But it's okay, things … end. They always do. I just didn't expect it to be so hard this time." I'm not going to cry. I'm not. 

"Well, he wasn't just your boyfriend. He was always such a good friend to you, too." 

"Yeah, that's what I miss the most." I sigh. I hate thinking about this. I don't want to talk about it. And I never would have thought I'd be talking about it with my mother of all people. Yet I keep talking. "It's weird. I knew things weren't great between us. But when he walked out the door … I just … I dunno. I guess a part of me must have believed that he wasn't going anywhere. But then he did." I'm going to blame these tears gathering in my eyes on hormones. I'm sure that's all there is to it. 

"Oh, Abby. I'm sorry. That must have been hard." She moves a little closer to me and put her hand on the back of my head, stroking my hair.

"Yeah. I was just sick about it. Or so I thought. Turns out it was something else that was making me sick."

"Morning sickness?" She asks, with a knowing chuckle.

"Yeah."

"Bad?"

"Not too bad. And it's gone now."

"Well that's good." She gives me a smile, then seems to hesitate a moment. "And … how are things between you and John now?" I can't help but roll my eyes. Where am I going to start with that one? "I mean, he knows about the baby, right?" Well that much I can answer.

"Yeah. He knows. But things are … I don't know. I haven't really talked to him in … a while. More than a month."

"Why not? He's not happy about the baby?" 

"He's thrilled about the baby."

"But …"

"But just because I'm pregnant doesn't mean that suddenly everything is okay." I say, rather indignantly. "I mean, he knocked me up and dumped me … asshole." I mutter the 'asshole' part under my breath, but Maggie seems to catch it anyway.

"So you're … angry with him?" She asks, sounding unsure, maybe a little startled. 

"Yes. No. I was. Then I got over it. Then he was angry with me. Then he got over it. Then I got mad at him again."

"And now?" 

I hesitate, not sure how to describe my feelings. Maybe not even sure exactly how I feel. "I don't know. I'm not mad any more … not really. But I just …" 

"Aren't sure you can trust him?"

"Yeah. Or maybe not sure I can trust … _us_. We just keep messing it up. And now there's even more at stake. Having a baby isn't going to fix things."

"Well, I know that, Abby. But it's certainly a good reason to give things another chance, isn't it? I mean, you two _are_ going to have a baby together. I certainly hope he intends to live up to his responsibility." 

"Oh, there's no doubt that he'll live up to his responsibility. He wants to be a daddy more than anything."

"But he doesn't want to be with you?" She gives a sympathetic, concerned look. I think she really is worried. About me. About Carter. About her grandchild. 

"No, that's not it." 

"You don't want to be with him?"

"It's not that simple." 

"Isn't it." That's a statement, not a question. A challenge really. 

"No, it's not. It's … complicated. I just … I'm the one who needs some space now, I guess. It's hard enough getting used to being pregnant. The last thing I need is him chasing me around." 

"Chasing you around?" She asks, sounding confused. "Does John want to get back together?" 

"He thinks he does. But I think he's confusing his feelings for the baby with his feelings for me. And it's better for all of us if I don't let myself get caught up in some fantasy."

"But Abby …" I give her a sharp look. But she returns it with a stern one. "Abby, don't be silly. He loves you."

"He's better off without me." 

"Oh, now that's ridiculous." She shakes her head and waves her hand for emphasis, dismissing my words.

"It's not ridiculous, it's true!" I tell her, getting a little bit mad. She, of all people, should understand. I'm messed up. My life is a disaster. Thanks in part to her. I have no right to inflict my problems on Carter. "Probably the best thing I can do for him is stay away from him." The damn tears are back. Hormones. Stupid hormones.

"And what about the baby?" 

"The baby's probably better off without me, too." 

"Abby, you don't mean that. You're its mother." 

"That doesn't always mean much." I give her a long look. "I haven't done anything special to earn that title. I just had sex. And got pregnant. That's not what makes a mother." 

"Are you smoking?" I furrow my brow at her. What does that have to do with anything?

"What? No."

"Drinking?" 

"No. Of course not." 

"Well, there you go. See? You're already off to a good start. And I'll bet you're doing all those other things you're supposed to do to have a healthy pregnancy, too, aren't you? That's more than a lot of women do for their children."

"But it's not enough. Just getting the pregnancy part right isn't enough. That's the easy part. Once the baby's born … well, there are just so many ways to screw up. And I don't know the first thing about being someone's mother." 

"Abby. You are a born nurturer. And you practically raised your brother. You probably know more about being a mother than I do. And these doubts you're having, it's my fault. I didn't exactly give you a shining example. But Abby, you did such a good job with Eric … in spite of your crazy mother. In spite of the fact that you were a child yourself. There's no reason to think you can't do this. Just because I couldn't …"

"It's not just that. I have … issues. You know, I have all these … insecurities. And some days it's all I can do to keep my own head above water. I don't know if I'm strong enough to be the kind of parent that I want my child to have. I mean, I'm a drunk, for God sake. And so are you. Maybe it's time to stop the cycle. I mean, you know … I'm damaged. I don't want to pass that on."

"But if you're aware of it, you can make sure these things don't happen."

"I can't _make sure_ of anything." Why doesn't she get that? I can't keep bad things from happening. Not for her. Not for Eric. Not for myself. Not for this baby. "And I don't know if I can take the risk. Especially not for the baby. Is it really fair for me to accept that risk on my child's behalf?"

"So what are you saying, Abby? Isn't it a little late to be having second thoughts about keeping the baby? You're not really considering an abortion at this stage, are you?"

"No. I'm not thinking about an abortion. Not anymore. I'm keeping the baby, I just don't know if I'm _keeping_ it."

"Are you talking about putting it up for adoption?"

"No, I'm talking about letting his father raise him."

"You would just give John the baby?" I shrug. She just looks at me, skeptically.

"I don't know. Maybe. Maybe that would be best for the baby. Maybe I wouldn't be around enough to screw him up. And Carter … he's gonna be a great dad."

"That can't be what you really want, Abby." She says, her eyes searching mine. I look away. 

"It's not about what I want. Besides, it's not like I'd never get to see the baby again. The poor kid just wouldn't be subjected to me on a regular basis."

"Why? Abby … why would you want to do that?"

"I just want to do the right thing. The right thing for John. For the baby. I thought I knew what that was … but then I changed my mind. And now …" I trail off, too confused to even explain my confusion. 

I'm not really sure how I feel these days. Some days, I look down at my burgeoning belly and feel such a connection, already, to the little person growing there that I can't imagine ever letting go. But in more rational moments, I realize how selfish holding on could be. And I already made one decision, the decision to continue this pregnancy, based solely on my heart's wishes. My head wants a piece of the action this time. 

"Abby?" I look over at her. "Changed your mind about what?"

"I thought about it. An abortion. But then …I just .. I couldn't do it. I couldn't go through it again. I didn't think I could survive it this time." 

"So that's what stopped you?" I nod, half-heartedly. "Abby." She gives me a hard look. "But there was more to it than that, right?" 

I get up and move across the room. Stare out the window. 

"It was different this time, right?" She asks. 

"I'm different now. Older, wiser. This time I knew what I was in for."

"And John didn't have anything to do with it?"

"Well, of course he did. He … begged me to … keep the baby. He wanted it so much. And even though I thought we'd all be better off, in the end … I … I couldn't do that to him. Hurt him like that. Or just throw away … I mean, the baby …" I don't even bother to try and stop the tears this time. I hate thinking about it … about how close I came … and yet, I still wonder if I did the right thing that day. 

"The baby. _His_ baby. And that was part of it, right? Because it was his baby?" 

I nod, biting on my lip. Yeah, that was part of it. A bigger part of it than I care to admit. Easier for me to believe that I was doing it for him, or because I didn't want to go through the wrenching pain of an abortion again. I don't really want to face to the fact that what mostly stopped me was simply that this is our baby. His and mine. A part of us. And giving up the baby would have been giving up on any chance for us. 

"You still love him, don't you?" Maggie appears by my side and wraps her arms around me.

I sniffle and nod. "I wish I didn't. It would make things so much easier."

"Oh, Abby. Abby, Abby, Abby. Don't say that. Don't you know how lucky you are to have found him? You two are so great together. He loves you. You love him. You're having a baby …" She pats my belly fondly, gives me a big smile. "So what's the problem?" 

"I … I'm scared." I sniffle some more, wipe the tears. "What happens when he leaves again? Or when we can't make it work? It doesn't matter how many ways you explain it to child, gone is still gone. You still feel abandoned. And you're never really the same again. Someday he's gonna get sick of me … and it's the baby who'll get hurt the most."

"Do you really think John would leave his child behind and just disappear like …"

"Like _my _father did? No, I don't think John would do that. But you don't have to disappear forever to screw up your kid. Even if you still see the parent you no longer live with, you've still lost them. And I just don't want to put my child through it."

"So you think it would be better to not even give your child a chance at a happy, intact family?"

"Not if it's gonna fall apart later. I think it would be easier to never have known what it's like in the first place. Better to have never had a mother than to have a mother that leaves you."

"A mother? But Abby, you wouldn't do that. And you _can_ make sure that doesn't happen. Abby, you don't have to give up your child and walk away to ensure that it has a happy life. You could be a great mother. And no one has to leave. It's not inevitable. Bad things don't always happen, Abby. I know it doesn't seem like it. Not after your childhood. And I know that I can't ever really understand what you went through. But Abby, you're not going to repeat my mistakes. You're not me. Is that what this about, Abby? Is this about you … or me?"

"I don't know. I don't know anymore. It's all so … wrapped up together."

"Abby, look at me." She puts her hands on my face, forces me to look at her. "You're not going to turn into me. You're not going to turn into your father and just wash your hands of everything one day. And neither is John. You're both stronger than that. And you have so much going for you. I mean, Abby … look at you. Look at far you've come. In spite of everything you've been through, you haven't given up. And now you have a chance to really be happy. To have all the good things that you deserve in this life. You've done so much … for me … for your brother … it's time that you got some of those good things for yourself. And you can have it now. With this baby. With John. Whatever's happened between you two in the past, things are different now. Maybe all you needed was a little something to put things in perspective. If it's what you both want, maybe now you can work it out."

"Well, I can't count on that can I?" I snap. And then with a more measured voice, "Besides, we tried that, it didn't seem to work."

"What do you mean?"

"After I told him … I was keeping the baby. We … well … you know. But anyway … It was a bad idea. We weren't ready. We may never be ready." 

"All you can do is try." She says, looking at me solemnly. "And you have a chance to be a part of something wonderful. Not _everything_ ends, Abby. I can't promise you that you and John can make it forever. But maybe you can. Maybe you're lucky. Maybe you've found a love that will never end. I can tell you that your love for your child will never end. And that's a gift, Abby. It's a good thing. There _are_ some of those in life." She stops and gives me stern look. "I wish we could go back, Abby. I wish I could make things easier on you. But I can't. All we can do is move forward. Just … don't let you past ruin your future." 

"I wish it were that simple." 

"It can be. Abby, what's really important in this life is holding on to the people you love. If you love him … don't let go."

I nod. "I … this is something I have to think about. I just …want to be sure."

"Don't wait too long. Or you might find out that you've already lost your chance. I know it's scary … but don't you think you owe it to your child to give him the best possible start in life?"

"I just want the baby to … be happy." 

"The baby can be happy. With you. And John. You can all be happy together. A perfect little family." 

"And you would know so much about happy families, wouldn't you?" There's a bitterness in my voice that I hadn't expected. 

"Abby …"

"Happily ever after? Sorry, Mom, but I don't believe in fairytales any more. In fact, I don't think I ever did." 

"I'm sorry, Abby." Her voice is soft and there are tears in her eyes. I'm instantly contrite, wishing I hadn't snapped at her when she's just trying to help me. "I'm sorry I messed up with you. I …" 

There's something about seeing her in tears. I don't know … but suddenly some of the things she said hit home. Maybe I have been letting my past control my life, my future. Maybe it's time I changed that. 

"It's okay, Mom. I know. And you're right … there are some things that don't end." I look at her pointedly. "Like the bond between a mother and child." My hand rests on the slight bump that's made by my child within. "And maybe you're right about the baby. Maybe it's a new beginning for all of us. Maybe it is just what John and I need to help us figure it all out. At least I hope you're right. I hope that things work out."

"That's good Abby. Hold on to that. Hold on that hope. As long as you have hope for the future, the past doesn't matter so much." 

I nod. Maybe she _is_ right. I don't know anymore. Maybe … maybe Carter and I can work things out. Maybe there is still … hope for us. And for the baby. Maybe that happy family isn't so out of reach, after all. And maybe I should do what Maggie suggested … I'll never know until I try. It's so scary … and there's so much risk. But maybe it's worth it. Maybe. Back to that again. My whole life is turning into nothing but a bunch of _maybes_. 

"Abby?" I turn and look at her. "You look exhausted. What do you say we try to get some sleep? After all, I wouldn't want my grandbaby picking up bad habits like staying up all night." She smiles at me as she reaches over and rests her hand next to mine on my belly. I roll my eyes at her for thinking that I'm going to turn my three-month-old fetus into an incurable insomniac. But then I take her hand in mine.

"Mom?"

"Yeah?" 

"I'm really glad you're here." 

"Me too, Abby. Me too."

Hard for me to believe that Maggie and I are sharing a moment like this. It makes anything seem possible. So maybe … maybe it's time I finally started giving happy endings a chance. 


	10. Only With the Heart

__

Title: Finding A Way Home

Author: Andrea

Rating: R. Again, nothing specific, but you know, just in case. 

Author's Note: Huge THANK YOU to COURTNEY for the excellent and extremely detailed review. COURTNEY -- well, hey, you rock my world. And thanks again, COURTNEY for all the nagging. You know I *love* it. Thanks to everyone who reviewed … please do it again. And a big shout out to the chat room bitches who informed me of my celebrity and fame. But can you really be famous and not know it? I don't know. Anyway, here it is. You should all thank COURTNEY for shoving her thumb up my ass so I would get this done. And the chat room bitches who convinced me to post it by putting dirrrty images of naked Abby (in bed) in my mind… Hey LANIE who always reviews. Thanks, LANIE. Jesus, shout outs are exhausting. 

****

Finding A Way Home 

Chapter 10: Only With the Heart 

"That's seventeen." Susan says, watching me watch Abby leave the lounge. 

"What?" I ask her. 

"That's seventeen times that I've caught you staring at Abby this morning. And it's only …" She makes an exaggerated point of looking at her watch, "Ten o'clock." 

"I wasn't staring." 

"Right, of course you weren't." She rolls her eyes at me. I guess she's been spending too much time with Abby. "Why don't you just talk to her?"

"I talk to her. We talk all the time." 

"You know what I mean. A _real_ conversation. One with more than ten words. She _is _having your baby, after all. That would imply a certain level of intimacy. Yet, I've had warmer conversations with my cab driver than you two have had the past couple months."

"She doesn't want anything to do with me, Susan." 

"Please tell me you're not serious. Are you really that blind?" 

"Well, I'm certainly not deaf. I heard it loud and clear when she told me to leave her alone."

"Carter … that was _two months_ ago."

"So?"

"So, I think things have probably changed since then."

"I don't think so."

"She wanted some time, right? Well, now she's had time … to take in everything. I think she was just overwhelmed then … but now …"

"Now what? She still wants nothing to do with me."

"Oh my God, I can't believe you don't see it."

"See what?"

"These past few weeks … you haven't noticed? The way she's been hanging around you, finding an excuse to be in the same room with you. She's been tossing out hints all over the place."

"Really?" I ask. Susan nods. And now that she's mentioned it, I suddenly remember several instances of Abby … prolonging our contact. Sometimes she'd ask unnecessary questions about a patient. Sometimes she'd show up to help with a patient of mine, even when her presence wasn't really required. Occasionally she would even stay late to tend to one of our patients. I just never realized she was doing it to be close to me. 

"You should really talk to her, Carter."

"Why? Why should _I_ talk to her? Why do I always have to be the one?" I snap, somewhat irritated at Susan's assumption that it's up to me to put things right between Abby and I. 

"Well, she _has_ been making overtures. In her own … Abbyish sort of way."

"Why doesn't she come and talk to me then?" I genuinely don't understand. If Abby wants to get back together, or even work on our friendship … why doesn't she just tell me so?

"I'll tell you the same thing I told her a few months ago. I think she's just scared. Look at it from her perspective. This time, she was the one asking you to give her some space. And she knows you weren't real happy about it. Now, she's afraid of you reaction if she says she wants you back. So she's testing the waters to see if you're open to the possibility … this ought to sound very familiar to you since I think it wasn't too long ago that you were doing much the same thing. Except without all the obvious hints that Abby is _dropping in your lap_. Honestly, I don't know what is wrong with you two."

"What do you mean by that?"

"You two. You're a pair of fools. You waste more time dancing around each other. And I don't get it, I really don't. You and Abby have something that people spend their entire lives searching for and never find. And if it were just the two of you, and you wanted to waste this golden opportunity for reasons that must be beyond my grasp, that would be one thing. But now your child is involved. So excuse me, but I think it's time you both stop fucking around." 

"Gee Susan, how do you really feel?" I ask her, sarcastically. 

"I'm sorry. It's your life. Not my business. But …" She hesitates a moment, debating with herself, I guess. "Look, you and Abby are my friends. I love you both. I want to see you happy. And I don't think either one of you can ever really be happy if you aren't together. It just seems like such a shame for you two to waste something that a lot of other people would kill for."

"But what if she doesn't want me back?" 

"I don't know. But what do you have to lose, really? On the other hand …"

"I have everything in the world to gain." I say, finishing her thought.

"I wasn't suggesting you propose, just try to open up the lines of communication. Whatever else, you guys have to find a way to be friends … or something close to it. That baby's gonna be here before you know it … I think it might be nice for it to have parents who are on speaking terms." 

"Yeah, maybe you're right. I'll think about it."

"Ugh. You know what your problem is, Carter? You think too much. You need to stop _thinking_ and do something." She imparts this advice as she heads out the door. Leaving me alone to do some _thinking_. I'm still _thinking_ on it a couple hours later while I'm sequestered in the suture room, supposedly catching up on charts.

"Hey." I turn as the door opens and see Abby slipping into the room, closing the door behind her. 

"Hi," I say, trying not to show my surprise.

"You hiding out in here?"

"Charts." I gesture to the stack that I've barely made a dent in. 

"Oh." She nods in understanding. "I've been looking all over for you. I thought maybe you went to lunch."

"No, not yet," I say, wondering where this conversation is going. "But … if you're hungry, we could go get something," I offer tentatively. 

In response, Abby holds up a bag, "I'm mostly brown-bagging it these days. You know, trying to avoid all that crap in the cafeteria. Do you … wanna share?"

Surprised at the offer, I tell her, "I wouldn't want to take the food out of you mouth." 

"Don't worry," she says with rueful smile, "The baby won't suffer too much. I had a big breakfast." She pulls up a stool next to me and begins sharing out her lunch between the two of us. "Too bad about the rain. We could have picnicked on the roof."

I know I should probably be used to it by now, but these sudden changes in attitude that Abby seems prone to throw me for a loop every time. 

"Have you been talking to Susan?" I ask her.

"No. Why?"

I shrug. "Well, she gave me an earful this morning. And now you show up all …"

"What?"

"Friendly. So I though maybe Susan kicked your ass, too."

"Oh, so Susan kicked your ass, did she?" Abby asks, as she twirls back and forth on her stool. I think she's laughing at me behind her half of our egg salad sandwich. 

"Fine. Go ahead and laugh."

"I'm sorry." She says through barely contained giggles.

"It's okay, I'm used to it."

"Me laughing at you or Susan kicking your ass?"

"Uh … both?" 

"So what exactly was Susan … um … taking issue with?" 

"You mean what was she kicking my ass about? Well … us." Abby raises her eyebrows at me -- a questioning look. 

"Let me guess, she thinks we should get back together. I've heard that tune before." 

"So you have been talking to Susan."

"Yeah, I've heard it all before. Several times, in fact. Usually from Susan. Most recently from my mom." 

"Maggie knows?"

"Yeah, she was here a couple weeks ago. We had a little impromptu visit."

"Maggie was here? Is everything … okay?" 

"Yeah … she was on her way home from visiting some old friends in Florida. She was catching her connection at O'Hare, but she got fogged in. So she came and stayed with me. I figured I'd might as well tell her while she was here … after all, I can't keep it a secret forever." She says, as she looks down while smoothing her shirt over stomach. 

I'm surprised to see the roundness of her belly. It's not at all apparent under the baggy scrubs and shirts that I see her in at work. Which is the only place I ever see her these days. So I guess it's not surprising that this is the first real conversation that we've had since the last time we were in this room alone together. The day Abby asked me to give her some space. And I realize that Susan was right this morning -- Abby and I haven't been talking. 

Susan was right about something else, too. I can't stop staring at Abby. Right now, I can't stop staring at her belly. I reach out tentatively and put my hand on the little bulge. That's my baby in there. It's growing. I can see evidence of its existence. It's really real. Abby smiles at me sweetly and doesn't seem to object to eating her lunch with my hand on her stomach, so I leave it right there. Communing with the baby, I guess. 

"Was Maggie excited to find out she's going to be a grandma?"

I catch the good-natured eye roll as Abby says, "Yeah, you could say that. She's probably already working on the layette. It's pretty much all she could talk about once she found out." She pauses for a minute, fiddles around with her lunch. "Have you told your parents yet?" She asks, just before taking a bite of a carrot stick.

"No, not yet. There hasn't really been a good time." She nods, as if she understands. 

Of course the timing is only half the reason I haven't broken the news to my parents. It's not that I'm afraid of their reactions. It's just that these past couple months, with the distance that has grown between Abby and I, I've felt removed from the baby, too. When I first found out that Abby was pregnant, I felt an instant connection to the child -- our child -- that she was carrying. But these past weeks, watching everyone ask _Abby_ about the baby, hearing everyone gossiping about _Abby's_ baby … well, I've felt a little irrelevant to the whole process. I certainly haven't forgotten what was happening, but I've felt kinda left out. But it's amazing how little it takes to bring back all those old feelings. Just catching sight of Abby's round belly was pretty much all it took. I wish I'd been more a part of this whole thing. I feel like I've missed so much already. 

"Abby? How've you been?" 

"Don't worry, I've been taking good care of your baby." She says in a playful tone, and I know she's teasing me. 

"I know that. But how have _you_ been?

"I'm … okay."

"Just okay? You're having a baby, you should be happy."

"I am. Sometimes. But other times …" She trails off, shrugs her shoulders. 

"What?"

"I dunno." She pauses for a moment, before continuing. "I think it's finally starting to sink in." I knit my brow in a question. "You know, that I'm gonna have a baby." 

"Oh. Yeah, I guess so," I say, rubbing her little bulge. 

"That reminds me … _that's_ why I was looking for you."

"To tell me that you're gonna have a baby? Because … I already knew that." 

"No. To see what you're doing this afternoon." 

"Probably just saving a few lives. You know, the usual. Why?"

"Think you can break away for awhile? I have an appointment upstairs. At three."

"Sonogram?" I ask hopefully. 

"Yep. First one. I didn't think you want to miss it."

"No, of course not."

"So you'll come with me?" 

"Absolutely." Did she really think that I wouldn't want the chance to see the baby? 

"Okay. Good." She smiles, then sighs. "I should probably get back to work. I'll come and find you when it's time to go upstairs, okay?" She cleans up the detritus from our lunch and prepares to head back out to the ER. 

"Yeah, sure." I say. She nods, and walks toward the door. "And Abby?"

"Yeah?" 

"Thanks." 

"You should be there. It's your baby, too." With that, she turns and walks out the door. 

I'm left staring at the clock. Which is pretty much how I spend the next couple of hours. I keep my fingers crossed that no major traumas will roll in and busy myself taking care of the lacerations and weak and dizzies. Finally, Abby sticks her head into the exam room where I am just finishing up with the patient, and asks if I'm ready. Without a doubt, I'm ready. I can't get out of there fast enough. And soon Abby and I are in the elevator heading up to OB. I look over at her and see her biting her lip.

"What's wrong?" 

"Nervous." 

"You worried about the baby?" 

"Uh-huh." She nods her head in affirmation. 

"I'm sure everything is just fine." 

"I hope so." She sighs a heavy sigh. I'm sure we'll both feel a little nervous until we can see for ourselves that our baby really is just fine. 

"Hey," I say, attempting to get her mind off her worries by changing the subject, "Do you think we'll be able to tell the sex?" 

"Well, statistically, this _is_ the best time in pregnancy to determine the sex. So … maybe." 

"Do you want to find out?" 

"I don't know. Why? Do you?" 

"It's up to you." I tell her. 

"I don't know." She says again, quietly, seemingly lost in thought.

"Do you have a preference?" I ask. 

"No. Not really."

"Any gut feeling? Mother's intuition?" 

"Nope. Although … I did have a couple dreams about a boy."

"Really?"

"Yeah. But it might just be that it's easier for me to imagine. I mean, with Eric and all. And I was always sort of a tomboy myself …" 

"So you want a boy?"

"No. Not really _want. _Maybe a boy just seems … easier? Less complicated? Then again, on the other hand … it might be more complicated. Because of my brother. Your brother. I dunno … mostly I just want a healthy, happy baby." There's that shrug again. Then she looks over at me. "What about you?" 

"Yes, I want a healthy, happy baby, too." 

"Yeah, but would you prefer a boy or a girl? I mean, if you could choose."

"I'm kinda glad we can't choose. I mean, I wouldn't know which to choose. A boy would be great. But a little girl … well, that would be great, too."

"So do you want to find out? Or would you rather be surprised?"

"I told you, Abby, it's up to you. What do you want to do?" 

She shrugs as some emotion passes quickly over her face … anxiety, trepidation maybe. I don't know why finding out the sex of the baby would seem scary. Especially if she really doesn't have a preference. It really shouldn't be nerve-wracking at all. But maybe she's back to worrying that something might be wrong with the baby. I reach over and take her hand, squeezing it lightly. She doesn't pull away, and in fact, she lets me hold her hand all the way into the exam room. By the time Abby is changed and settled on the exam table, Dr. Coburn has shown up so we never do get a chance to resolve the question of whether or not we want to find out the sex of the baby. 

The exam goes quickly, with me staring transfixed at the sight of Abby's bare belly and the roundness that is our baby. I want nothing more than to lay my head down on her stomach and talk to the baby, but I suppose that would make doing the sonogram a bit difficult. 

"Well, everything looks good." Janet tells us. "Are you ready to see your baby?" 

I nod happily, eagerly anticipating seeing my child on the monitor. Abby nods more cautiously, biting nervously on her lower lip again. I take her hand once again, hoping to reassure her. 

Within moments Janet is moving the transducer around on Abby's abdomen, and then, suddenly, there's an image of a baby on the screen. 

My baby. 

Our baby. 

Incredible. I swear my heart skips a beat and my breath catches in my throat as I see the image of my child for the first time. I have to fight back the tears as I squeeze Abby's hand. I look over at her and see her staring at the monitor, her emotions a mystery. Then she turns and looks at me, giving me a tentative smile. 

"It looks okay, huh?" She says quietly. She looks back the monitor, the expression on her face still unreadable.

"It looks good." I tell her, looking back at the screen. There's our baby. 

Hi, Baby. I'm your daddy. You're mine. And you're perfect. 

And it is perfect. Nothing's missing, nothing's deformed, everything is right where it should be. I could spend hours staring at this … watching the baby's heart beat steadily, seeing the little fluid movements of the long, spindly limbs. It's so … amazing. You would think I'd never seen a sonogram before. But this time it's my baby. Mine. Suddenly I feel a connection to this tiny little person stronger than ever before. 

"Abby." I say, my voice full of emotion. She looks up at me, and I see the tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. "Thank you." I whisper, bending down to kiss her forehead. 

She's giving me such a gift. And I know that it hasn't been easy for her, but I'm grateful, now more than ever, that she chose to have this baby. My baby. She smiles at me, and nods slightly as if she understands my unspoken thoughts. And maybe she does. This is Abby, after all. 

"The baby looks great." Coburn says, interrupting my thoughts.. "Fetal development is right on target in a healthy, uncomplicated pregnancy. You couldn't ask for much more than that." 

"See?" I say to Abby. "I told you there was nothing to worry about. The baby's fine. He's … she's … _its _fine. Perfect." 

"Speaking of which," Janet starts, "Did you want to know the sex?" 

"I … we're not sure." Abby says. 

Just then I glance up at the screen, and as Janet is moving the transducer, I catch a glimpse of something. "Actually, I think I might have just seen …" 

"The sex?" Abby asks.

"Maybe. It was just a fast glimpse, but it looked like …"

"What?" 

"Boy parts. Well, one boy part, anyway." 

"Really? It's a boy?" Abby asks. 

"Well, I'm not sure. Like I said, I just caught a glance."

"You want to take a closer look?" Janet asks. 

"Okay." Abby says. I nod. 

Janet moves the transducer while we watch the screen. And then … right there between the baby's legs is … the umbilical cord. Oops. 

"Nice call, genius." Abby says. "Are you really a doctor?"

"Haha. I told you I wasn't sure." 

"I guess you were expecting that any son of yours would be … well-endowed, huh?" Abby laughs, looking back up at the screen. Okay, so if that had been what I thought it was … 

"Abby …" I say, feeling my cheeks turning red. "I told you, I couldn't tell for sure."

"So," Janet says. "It's still a surprise. Do you want to keep it that way or should we try to get a look from a different angle?" 

"If we find out," I say to Abby, "We can stop calling it 'it.'" I have to admit, my curiosity has been piqued now. I'd really like to know. 

Abby looks at me for a long minute, seeming somewhat reluctant. But then she says, "Oh, what the hell … let's look." 

Janet tries for another angle, and we all stare intently at the monitor as the baby basically moons us. 

"Now _that's _the umbilical cord." Janet says, tracing it on the screen for us. Great, now she's laughing at me too. "And I don't see any sign of … uh … 'boy parts.'" Making fun of me again, I see. Wait … no boy parts … does that mean? 

"It's a girl?" Abby asks.

Janet nods. "Yes, I'm gonna say it's a girl. But since we are basing that on what we don't see as opposed to what we see and this isn't the best angle, I'm going to give myself a little fudge factor. So I'll say it's probably a … ninety percent chance that it's a girl. I'm not gonna make any promises and have you come back later and sue me for being wrong." 

"Do people actually do that?" I ask.

"I wouldn't be surprised." She says as she turns off the machine. She hands me a video tape and some pictures on her way out. "Congratulations." She says, walking out the door. I turn and look at Abby who is exchanging her gown for her scrubs. 

"A girl. Wow," I say to Abby. We have a little girl. It makes the baby seem like more of a real person. Not an _it_ anymore, but a _she._ I have a daughter. A daddy's little girl. She's gonna be my little princess.

"Are you glad the baby's a girl? Well, probably a girl." Abby asks me. 

"Well, since we couldn't seem to see any boy parts, I guess it's good thing that it's a girl."

She rolls her eyes at me. "I'm serious. Are you … disappointed?" 

"Disappointed?" I repeat, confused. "Why would I be disappointed?"

She shrugs. " I don't know. I thought maybe you wanted a boy. Don't most men want sons?"

"I don't know. But I'm not most men. So a little girl … well, that's great. A boy would have been wonderful too, but a girl …" I trail off, but think to myself how happy I am that I'll have a little girl … a little girl that hopefully will be just like her mother. I hope that every time I look at her, I'll see Abby. "No, I'm not disappointed at all. Why? Are you?" 

"No, not disappointed … I don't know … surprised, maybe. I didn't think that I had any sort of … intuition about it … but now that I think about it, I guess I was sort of … _expecting_ a boy."

"Sure you're not disappointed?" 

"Well, it wasn't that I necessarily wanted a boy … like I said before, I think I could just imagine it more clearly. I could picture a little mini you."

"Now we can have a mini you instead." I tell her. 

"I hope not." 

"Abby …" I say in protest because a little Abby is exactly what I hope for. And I, for one, can picture a little girl quite easily. I wonder, though, if it'll be harder for Abby having a daughter. Considering her prior experience with mother-daughter relationships. Then again, maybe it will end up being a second chance for her. And since little girls obviously need their mothers, I hope Abby's no longer entertaining that crazy notion about dropping out of our baby's life. Maybe that's why she was subconsciously looking for a boy. Maybe she thought with a boy she could be more off the hook. Maybe she thought a little boy could get along okay with his father. But a little girl … she probably thinks I wouldn't know what to do with a girl. She's probably right. Little girls love their daddies … but what happens when she's not a little girl anymore? What happens when she's a teenager? 

"Are you okay?" Abby asks. "You look a little … funny."

"Yeah. I was just thinking … someday she'll be a teenager. I won't know what to do with a teenage girl. I don't know anything about hair and makeup and clothes …. You know, girl stuff." 

"Neither do I," Abby says with a shrug. "See? That's why I think a boy might have been easier."

"Oh my God." 

"What?" Abby asks, sounding concerned.

"She's gonna wanna date." 

"Probably." 

"I don't think I'll be able to take that. I think you're right, we should have had a boy." 

"Too late now. But I wouldn't worry too much about it now. I'm sure we've got a good ten or twelve years before she'll be interested in boys."

"Yeah." I say, following Abby out the door. "Wait … did you say ten years? Because --"

"Carter, I was just kidding. Although you know kids these days." She says playfully as we get in the elevator.

"Oh God, we're in trouble, aren't we?" 

"You're just figuring this out now?" She asks. But she's smiling, probably amused by my naïveté. 

"Yeah … well …" I look over at her and see that the smile has disappeared. In its place is a somewhat worried expression. "What's wrong?" 

"Nothing."

"Abby."

"It's just … it's real. And knowing it's a girl … that just makes it that much more real. It's just kinda … overwhelming. I guess." 

"Yeah," I nod. I put my arm around her and pull her to me. "But we're so lucky, Abby. A healthy baby. A healthy baby girl."

"Yeah." That little smile is back on her face as she looks down at her belly where her hands rest. 

"C'mon … I'll give you a ride home," I offer as the elevator opens at the main floor.

"Your shift's not over." 

"Deb's covering for me."

"Oh, okay." 

She follows me as I lead her to my Jeep. She's oddly quiet. A little too quiet. 

"You okay?" I ask as I open the door for her and help her in the car. 

She nods, but doesn't say anything. She seems to be preoccupied, lost in her own thoughts. I'd love to know what she's thinking, but I don't want to push her. So I just get in the car and prepare to leave, hoping she'll talk to me when she's ready. Before I even have the key in the ignition, she turns to me. 

"John?" I look over at her, waiting for whatever it is she wants to say. "Do you think they're right?" 

"Who?" She looks down at her hands, picks at one of the nails.

"Susan. My mom."

"Are you asking me if I think we should get back together?" She shrugs, then nods. "I think you already know how I stand on that issue."

"Do I?"

"Don't you? Yes, Abby … I want us to get back together. If that doesn't work, at the very least I want to be friends. I don't _really_ want to be just your friend, but I'll take what I can get. After all, you are having my baby. We have to find a way to make something work. Somehow." I reach over and put my hand back on her belly, where I've been longing to rest it all afternoon. 

"I know. We're having a baby. That's what makes it so hard. I just don't want to mess it up for the baby. It's like you said -- we're lucky. Lucky enough to be having a healthy baby. And I … I want to do right by … her." 

"We're gonna be good parents, Abby. We're gonna love her and take good care of her." I can't help but smile at the use of the pronoun. 'Her.' My little girl. 

"Or screw her up fundamentally. I just wish I knew what the right thing to do is. What if we give it another shot and mess it up? What if we don't give it another shot, and then we never know if we could have made it? And what's better for the baby? Is it better if we learn to live separate lives now? Or should we try to be together no matter how hard we have to struggle?"

"Why does it have to be a struggle?"

"Well, it hasn't exactly been a walk in the park so far." She gives me a little half smile, but the tears are all too evident in her eyes, her voice, her sniffles. 

I reach over and wipe the tears away gently. "I can't promise you it will be easy. But I think it's worth it. The hard work, the risks. Besides I'm not really sure that being apart could ever really work. I can't imagine that I could ever really be happy without you in my life." My voice has fallen to a whisper, and I'm leaning in close to her, my hands framing her face. "Nothing feels right when we're apart, Abby. Nothing." 

Tears start to slip down her cheeks, and when she speaks her voice wavers. "I just wish I knew what the right thing to do is. I just --" 

Before she can say another word, I lean in and kiss her. Susan's right, we think too damn much. This isn't about thinking, it's about feeling. It's about the jolt of electricity that runs through me every time our lips meet. It's about the way my heart still skips a beat when I see her. It's about the emptiness that I feel when I try to live my life without her in it. 

I expect her to pull away from the kiss, but she doesn't. She doesn't even fight it, she just melts into it. I'm lost in the kiss, lost in her. My hands are tangled in her hair, her hands have found their way to the back of my neck. This is so natural, so easy. Why do we have to complicate it? 

When we finally pull apart, slightly out of breath, I ask her, "Does that help?" 

"Help?" 

"Help you to figure out what feels right?" She just looks at me for a long moment. "Susan says we think too much. I think maybe she's right. 'It is only with the heart that one sees rightly, what is essential is invisible to the eye.'" When in doubt, quote someone else. 

"What's that?" 

"It from _The Little Prince_. My dad used to read it to Bobby and me when we were kids. Someday, I'll read it to our baby." I move on hand down to her belly again and lean into her neck, my lips nestling her soft skin, causing her to tilt her head to the side, offering me greater access.

" At least I got one thing right; you're gonna be such a good daddy."

"And you're gonna be a wonderful mother."

"I'll bet you say that to all the girls." 

"Yeah, it's my best pick-up line." She giggles, whether from the bad joke or my fingers sliding up over her ribs, I don't know. As my hand travels upward, my lips blaze a trail downward, both heading for the same destination. Her hands roam up and down my back as she sighs happily. 

But she's also squirming around, probably trying to get comfortable. Yeah, this isn't exactly the best place for a make-out session. Abby's leaned up against the door of the Jeep, and I'm stretched across the front seat, half lying on her, but with the gear shift creating a rather unpleasant obstacle between us. This isn't going to work. So I somehow manage to untangle myself from her and climb into the backseat. I'm stretched out across the small seat, half sitting, half lying as I reach out my hand to Abby. She agilely scrambles into the backseat and carefully lies down on top of me, bringing us face-to-face. 

"You really need to think about getting a bigger car." She says with a smile, and then leans down to capture my lips. 

The kiss deepens and her tongue snakes its way into my mouth, exploring and caressing. I can't help but moan into her mouth. It feels so good to have her this close to me again. Finally. I've just missed her so much. She smiles around the kiss and wriggles her body against mine. Between her hips grinding against mine and the kisses she's planting just behind my ear, she's driving me crazy. I slip my hands under her shirt, letting them rub her back lightly before slowly moving around to her sides. Just as I'm about to finally get my hands on her lovely, pregnant boobs, she pulls away. 

"What's wrong?" I ask.

"What was that?" She asks.

"What was what?" I ask, looking around. 

"I felt something. Against my leg."

"Uh … Abby? Gee, how quickly they forget."

"No. Not _that_." She gives me a swat on the arm. "I don't remember _that_ ever vibrating before. Which is kinda too bad, actually."

Vibrating? Oh, my pager. "Dammit!" I dig the thing out of my pocket, and sure enough, it's the ER. 

"Some catastrophe in the ER?" 

"I'm being stat paged."

"So much for Jing-Mei covering for you. What's the matter? Can't she kill them fast enough on her own?" 

"Abby …" 

"Unh!" She flops back against the seat in disgust. Looks over at me. "Do you think it's a sign? Like fate?" 

"No! I don't think it's fate. I think it's the hazard of being an ER doc who is, technically, still on the schedule."

"Do you have to go?" I just level a look at her. "Okay, okay … I'll go first." She says, before climbing out of the car. I follow her out and we head back to the ER together. 

"I'll make it up to you later." I tell her. 

"Huh. You better." 

"I promise." 

"Promises, promises," She says, shaking her head at me with a lighthearted, teasing smile. 

I stop for a moment, watching her walk on ahead of me. She looks happy. Really happy. All these months of watching her surreptitiously, and this is the first time that I've seen a carefree, joyful smile on her face. And if she's happy, I'm happy. I run to catch up with her and grab her hand as we head back inside. She looks over at me with that big grin that fills me with so much hope. I hope that this is a start of new chapter in our lives. I hope that this will be a new beginning for us. The beginning of a beautiful … family. 


	11. Getting Better

__

Title: Finding A Way Home

Author: Andrea

Rating: R. So close it now if you don't like that kind of thing. 

Author's Note: Thanks to COURTNEY and LANIE for the reading, reviewing, and suggestions. COURTNEY, I love those detailed reviews. And the nagging. Keep it coming. Oh, and I used your line, COURTNEY. Be proud. Be very proud. Thanks to everyone else for all the reviews. Please do it again. 

*~*~*~*

Finding A Way Home

Chapter 11: Getting Better 

"Abby." Susan sounds surprised to see me. "I thought you were off a while ago." 

I open my eyes and peer at her from my resting spot on the couch. "I'm waiting." 

She looks at my hands resting on my little round belly and gives me an amused look. "To … give birth? Because I think you'll have a long wait." 

"No, I'm waiting for Carter. He sent me in here to 'rest.' Although I guess it's just as well because I think I dozed off for a while. What time is it?"

"About seven."

"Okay, so I dozed off for two or three hours," I say with a yawn. 

"So …" Susan, starts, "You're waiting for Carter?" I nod. "Really?" There's a lilt to her voice that denotes her excitement. "So you two finally …" She stops and raises her eyebrows at me. What's that supposed to mean? 

"What?" 

"Talked? Or something?" 

"Yeah, I guess. We're … working on it."

"On what?" Susan asks. 

"I'm not sure exactly. Something that involves the two of us all tangled up together on the backseat of his Jeep this afternoon out in the parking garage." 

"Tell me you didn't."

"Okay. We didn't." 

"Oh my God. You had sex in the parking garage?" She sounds kinda outraged. Guess that somehow defies her standards. There weren't any dead bodies or toilets in there, so how is it a good place to have sex?

"No, we didn't have sex." I tell her indignantly. 

"Oh, okay. I didn't _think_ you would do that --"

"Oh, I would have done it. But he got paged."

"Wait … what? What? I'm confused. Because this morning," She says slowly, "You two were barely speaking. And now you're telling me that you almost has sex in the parking garage in Carter's Jeep this afternoon."

"Well, to be honest …I'm not sure it would have gotten that far. Things are a little tight back there."

"Abby, I think you're missing the point." 

"What's the point?"

"Don't you think that you two might be … jumping into things?"

"I thought you wanted us to get back together. Isn't that what you've been pushing for?" 

"Well, yeah. I definitely think you two belong together. But I didn't mean that you should go from not talking to each other to hopping into bed -- or the backseat -- together all in one day."

"You're saying we're moving a little too fast?"

"Well, I don't know, Abby. You have to figure that part out. But I'm just saying it seems a little …sudden?"

I look at her for a long minute, thinking about that. "Yeah, maybe you're right. We do tend to … go to extremes, huh?" 

"Well, that's not necessarily a bad thing. You just have to make sure that you're ready to jump in with both feet. I mean, I think it's great that you two are talking again. And working on your relationship …"

"But?"

"Well …" 

"But maybe we should … be careful to not get in over our heads?" She shrugs, but I think that's what she was getting at. "Yeah, I know what you mean. We do sort of have this pattern … I think it's probably time to break it." 

"You're not gonna …"

"What?" 

"Go back to … ignoring him, are you?"

"What?"

"Well, he thought you were ignoring him, these past couple of months. He thought you wanted nothing to do with him. "

"Well, I sort of was ignoring him. I just … it was all too complicated. Everything happened all at once. And I needed a chance to get used to it … one thing at a time. But I think I'm ready now … to work on things with Carter."

"I'm glad to hear it. He's been miserable without you. And frankly, I'm getting sick of dealing with his bad mood."

"Well, I'll see what I can do about it. But I do think that maybe you're right. Maybe going from one extreme to the other isn't the best way to do things. Maybe we need to … build up to it."

"I don't want to be there when you tell Carter _that_. Because I think things have been building up for him for a while now. I'm sure your little make-out session this afternoon only fueled that fire."

I just laugh at her and roll my eyes. "Well, he's lasted this long. I'm sure he can just keep it up."

"No pun intended?" 

"Shut up," I say, laughing again. 

"So … if you don't mind me asking … what brought all this on?"

"You. It's all your fault. So you're going to have to take responsibility."

"Okay, I can do that. Because when you guys are celebrating 50th anniversary, I'll take all the _credit_."

"I think you're getting a little ahead of yourself, there. Weren't you just suggesting that slow and steady wins the race?"

"Maybe … but … you two are just so … well, meant for each other," she says with a confident smile. 

"You sure about that?" 

"Absolutely. But really … what made you … change your mind?" 

"It wasn't so much … changing my mind. It was more like … screwing up my courage. But I … I dunno. I guess it was partly due to the things you've said. And my mom was here a couple weeks ago, and she basically said all the same things. So I've been thinking about it for a while. And then today … well, I needed to talk him. And we did … talk. It was nice. And then … I guess there's something about seeing that sonogram together --"

"You had a sonogram today?" 

"Yeah," I say with a nod. 

"_And?_" 

"And … we found out we're having a girl. A healthy baby girl." 

"Oh! Oh Abby, that's great. It's more than great, it's … wonderful." She throws her arms around me and gives me a big hug. "Oh, a little girl. That's gonna be so much fun. Carter is going to spoil her rotten." 

"Yeah …" I say, hearing the reserve in my own voice. 

"What?" she asks, pulling back to look at me. "Were you hoping for a boy?" 

"No. Not really. It's just … a girl. I don't know … I guess maybe I sort of thought it was boy. It's hard to get used to the idea of having a little girl."

"Why? It'll be great, Abby. Oh, you'll love it."

"I don't know … it just seemed like with a boy … well, I guess I have a good idea of what little boys are like. You know, I watched my brother grow up. And God knows I've dated enough men who act like little boys. So … I don't know, I guess I thought I would know what to do with a little boy. And what I didn't know how to deal with, I could push off on Carter. 

"But this way … I'll sort of be the one who's expected to know all that … girl stuff. I'll be the one who gets to explain all the fun stuff like … sex … periods … eyeliner. A girl is gonna look to me for … advice, guidance. Not that a boy wouldn't … but a boy wouldn't need his mom to teach him how to be a woman. At least, I would hope not. But with a girl … I'm gonna be the primary role model. Because, you know, it's the same-sex parent that kids identify with." I sigh heavily at the thought. 

"So?" Susan asks.

"So … that's terrifying. It's a huge responsibility. What if I can't live up to it? And I can't just leave it to Carter … I mean, at some point little girls really need a mother. I know I wish I would have had one." 

"I know what you mean on that one. At least I had Chloe to look up to. For all the good that did me." 

"It's a wonder we turned out as good as we did."

"Yeah, well … that should cheer you up, Ab. If our mothers -- hell, if my sister -- can do it, you won't have any trouble."

"I hope so." 

"Have a little faith, Abby." 

"Easier said than done." 

"You'll see. I know how scary it seems. And all the doubts … but just wait until _she's _born. Your fear might not just disappear … but … you'll love her so much, it won't matter. You'll be so busy falling in love with her, you won't have time to worry about all the stuff that scares you. And once you come to your senses … it'll be too late. You'll be crazy in love with that baby …"

I smile at her. I love her enthusiasm. Especially when she talks about this topic. "I think _you_ need to have some kids, Sus." 

"Well, for now, I'll just enjoy yours."

"Can she call you Aunt Susie?" 

"That depends. Are you gonna call her Little Susie?" 

"There already is a Little Susie."

"Well, if one's good … two's better." 

"Uh-huh. Well … I'm not making any promises."

"I can still be the pseudo-Godmother, right?" 

"Of course. I want you to change diapers and baby-sit when no one else will." 

"Gee, what a deal."

"You know you love it." 

"I'm gonna spoil her rotten, too, you know."

"Yeah … I know," I say, as I follow Susan out of the lounge. 

She heads off toward the exam rooms, and I wander toward the admit desk. I'm not really paying attention to the random gossip that the nurses are exchanging until I hear his name. Apparently, they haven't noticed me loitering back here. 

"Carter?" Haleh asks.

"I'm telling you , girl … she said it was Carter," Chuny tells her.

"Is she sure?"

"She used to work in the ER, I guess she knows who Carter is." 

"In the parking garage?" Lydia asks. "What's with Carter and the parking garage?" 

"Who with?" Haleh asks.

"I don't know. She couldn't tell. Some skanky slut, probably. Maybe he hooked up with that nurse he used hang out with," Chuny guesses. Huh. Well, technically, that's true. Not the nurse she was thinking of … but still. Hey! Wait a minute … that's me they're talking about. I'm the skanky slut nurse in this story.

"What happened to her anyway?" Lydia asks. "She just disappeared." I've wondered that same thing myself. I haven't seen her around in … months. 

"Well, I think after Carter told her about Abby's baby, she saw the writing on the wall," Haleh says. 

"As if Abby wasn't enough to keep them apart." Lydia contributes. "With Abby having his baby, she didn't stand a snowball's chance of landing Carter. I don't blame her for disappearing." Do they really think I have that much power over him? 

"I heard she's working upstairs on the surgical floor," Chuny says.

"Nah, she got a job at Mercy," Jerry says. 

"So then who was Carter making out with?" Lydia asks. None of them seem to have any idea. I can't help but roll my eyes. 

"Oh, poor Abby," Chuny says.

"I don't want to be around when she finds out," says Haleh.

"Uh … ladies?" Jerry asks as he looks over and spots me. The nurses turn and look at him, and he just gestures in my direction. They all turn and look. 

"Oh … Abby …" Haleh says, her voice laced with sympathy. 

"We didn't mean … well," Lydia stammers. 

"Sorry," Chuny says. "You shouldn't have had to find out that way." 

"It's okay." I say. 

"Now Abby … we know how hard this is," Haleh says coming over to me and patting my arm. "But you know you can talk to us." 

"Yeah," Jerry says, "It can't be easy finding out through the rumor mill that your ex has someone new ." 

"Or that he was making out with that someone in the parking garage," Lydia says. 

"Really, it's okay," I say. "I already knew." 

"You did?" Lydia sounds surprised. 

"Yeah."

"Carter told you?" Haleh asks.

"No. He didn't have to tell me, I was there." As if any of this is their business, anyway. 

"You … were there?" Lydia asks.

"Oh girl … that's just sad." Sad? What's so sad about it? "I mean, I know you're hung up on the guy," Chuny is saying, "But following him around?" 

"Oh, Abby … I didn't know you had it this bad." Haleh says. 

"What?" I'm confused … what? Do they think I was stalking him?

"Watching your ex make out with some slut in the parking garage …" Chuny starts. 

"I wasn't watching him!" I say.

"Yeah, sure," Jerry says. "You just happened to be there, right? Just a coincidence. Go with that." 

"No … I was there on purpose. But I wasn't _watching _ him make out with some slut."

"Well then what were you doing there?" Chuny asks. 

"_I_ was the slut he was making out with!" I finally shout, just to shut them up. It works. There's a collective gasp. 

"You and Dr. Carter are back together?" Haleh asks. 

"Uh … well …" I nod, kinda weakly, not knowing quite how to answer. 

And then I'm surrounded by people congratulating me and wishing me well and gloating about how they knew all along that this would happen. Apparently everyone else was sure that we should be together. And they are all very excited about this turn of events. They spend way too much time worrying about my life. Still, I guess it's nice that they are all so … interested. 

"What's going on?" Luka asks as he walks up to desk. 

"Abby and Carter got back together!" Lydia practically squeals. And then realizing who she was talking to, she gets a somewhat embarrassed look on her face. But Luka doesn't seem at all bothered. 

"That's great. It's about time." He says. And then leaning closer to me, "I told him not to let you get away. I'm glad he finally took my advice." I look up with surprise at Luka. But he's grinning down at me … looking truly happy for me. 

"Thanks." I say, with a tinge of confusion in my voice. 

"I want you to be happy, Abby. Just because things didn't work out for us …" 

He gives my hand a quick squeeze and then heads back down the hall. And runs right into Carter. I watch as Luka stops him, then sticks out his hand. As they shake hands, I see the look on Carter's face turn from confusion to happiness back to somewhat confused. As he gets close to admit, he shoots me a questioning look. All I can do is shrug and smile. 

"What's happening?" He asks me in a whisper. 

"Oh … I kinda had to tell them that we were … you know …" I reply in a whisper of my own. 

"What?" 

"Back together." 

"Is that what we are?" I shrug again. "So then … you don't mind if I … do this?" He asks, draping his arm around my shoulder and kissing my cheek. 

"Aww … aren't they cute?" Haleh asks. 

"Adorable," Lydia agrees. "It makes me sick." 

"You know what makes me sick?" Frank bellows. "The fact that no one does any work around here anymore. Everyone is too damn busy talking about how Abby and Carter had sex in the parking lot." 

"It was the parking garage," Carter points out. 

"And … we _didn't_ have sex." I say, elbowing Carter in the ribs.

"Yeah, because Carter got paged," Susan tosses out helpfully as she walks by. 

"Thanks for that, Susan." 

"No problem whatsoever." She tosses me an evil grin as she heads back down the hall. 

"Hey," I say , turning to Carter "Now that everyone knows our business, are you ready to get out of here?" 

"Yes. Absolutely." 

In record time, we're heading out the door. Carter starts toward the now infamous parking _garage_, but I stop him. 

"What?" He asks as I tug on his arm. 

"It stopped raining," I point out. "It's kinda nice out here now. You wanna … take a walk?" 

"Yeah … sure." 

I reach out my hand to him, and he takes it in his own. We meander down the street hand-in-hand for a while. Mostly we don't talk, but it's a comfortable, companionable silence. Finally we find ourselves standing at the river, staring out across the water as we have so many times before. 

"You really told everybody that we're back together?" Carter finally asks, breaking the silence. 

"Yeah." He gives me a big grin. "I kinda had to. They thought you were making out with some other slut in the parking garage. Their heads were going to explode if I didn't set them straight." 

"So it was like … a community service. Something charitable."

"Which works out well since that's why I got back together with you." 

"I set myself up for that, didn't I?" He asks with knowing look. 

"Yeah, you really did." 

"So … now what?" 

"Well, actually, I've been thinking about that." 

"Uh-oh." 

"No, it's not … bad. Not that bad, anyway."

"Okay, I'm listening." He says carefully. 

"Well … I've just been thinking that maybe … maybe we kinda jumped into things a little too fast this afternoon."

"But … I thought … I mean, you just said that we're back together." 

"Well, we are. It's just … sometimes I think we skip over stuff. We can't just … have sex and expect that it fixes everything." I look out across the river for a minute before I start speaking again. "When Maggie was here? She … she said something about what good friends you and I used to be. And I realized that we've kinda lost that somewhere. And I want it back. I'm not saying that we can't be together, I just think maybe we should wait a little while to be _together_." I turn to look at him and find he's staring out across the water too. 

"So … no sex? Is that what you're saying?" He asks, turning to face me. I nod. He groans and leans against the railing, giving me a pained look. "After this afternoon … you're killing me here, Ab, you know that?" 

"You don't think it's worth the wait?" 

"I didn't say that. Of course it will be worth it. It's just that I've already been waiting for months. And I've missed you." He reaches out and tucks a stray strand of my hair behind my ear, letting his hand linger for a moment.

"Well, I've missed you, too. But that's kinda the point. You were right last time when you said that with us it always means something. So if it can't be just sex … then I think we need to wait until we're ready." He raises his eyebrows at me. "I mean … emotionally. We need to … reconnect first." 

He nods. "Yeah, I guess it's a good idea. It's just … it'll be hard. I mean, it'll be difficult … to, you know … how did you put it? Be together without being together." 

"I know. But … I really think it'll be worth it. And it's not … it's not just about waiting on the sex. It's just that I … I want to go back to the beginning. I know it seems silly … I mean, we are having a baby. But I just think … maybe we missed something important. Because we kinda went from best friends to barely civil to tentative friends to lovers. I think we missed something in there." 

"So what are you saying?" 

"I'm saying …" I look out at the water again for a minute, trying to decide exactly what it is that I'm getting out. When I realize what it is I want, I can't help but smile. "I'm saying, I want to go out on a date." 

"Excuse me?" He asks sounding confused. 

"A date. You know. That thing where two people go out together. Maybe to dinner. A movie. But they don't _necessarily _ have sex." 

"But maybe they have sex?" He sounds hopeful about that, but I can tell by the look on his face that he's just joking. 

I roll my eyes and shake my head. "Would you forget about the sex? I'm trying to tell you that I think we should try … dating. You know, most people go out on a least a few dates before they … hop into bed. And I know … in some ways, we were past that. I mean, we didn't need to get to know each other … because we already did. But still … maybe there's something to be said for … a … courtship. Might help with that whole 'reconnecting' thing." 

"Now you want me to court you?" He sounds beyond skeptical. 

"Well … you know … not for three years. But couldn't we just … try it? At least go out on one date?" 

"Is the sex going to be negotiable or not?" He says with a lopsided grin. He's teasing me, so I'll guess I'll have to tease him right back. 

"On a first date? What kind of girl do you think I am?" 

"Do you really want me to answer that?" 

"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask rather indignantly. 

"Well … c'mon, Abby … this is kinda silly. I mean … you're having a baby. My baby. It wasn't exactly an immaculate conception." 

"I know that. But remember? You were the one who had this whole idea about starting over. Is it so much to want you to ask me out on a date? To want you to pick me up and take me out somewhere? To make me feel special? To put some effort into the whole thing? Not just assume that you're gonna get lucky? Nothing like being taken for granted to make a girl feel good."

"Wait a minute … don't act like you don't do that same thing. Who climbed into whose bed last time?"

"Doesn't count … I was all … hormonal. And now … I think it was a bad idea."

"Well, I thought it was a bad idea then. Turns out, I was perfectly happy with it. So why am I the one who has to … woo you, now?" 

"Because you're the man." 

"Well, that's a little sexist. I don't think it's fair to expect me to do all the work just because I'm the man." 

"All the work? Okay … well … morning sickness, insomnia, dizziness, sore boobs, bloating, varicose veins, hemorrhoids, gaining forty pounds, labor, delivery, episiotomy … need I go on?"

"Playing the pregnancy card? That's not fair."

"And you think it's fair that I have to go through all that? And all I want from you is a measly date … and you're giving me crap about that?"

"Okay, okay … I get it. You win." He says, laughing. I think he's enjoying the arguing. Oh … bantering … we call it 'bantering' when we are together. 

"So?" I ask when he doesn't say anything else.

"Oh!" Light dawns. "Um … Abby, would you go out on a date with me this Friday?" 

"No."

"Abby! That's not funny." 

"Well, I'm sorry. It's not meant to be. I'm serious." I'm also giggling, but that's beside the point. 

"Well … why not?"

"I can't. I have to work." 

"Oh. Well, we're grown ups, we don't have to wait for the weekend. So … how about …." 

"Don't say tonight. It's been a long day. All I want to do is go home and get some sleep."

"Tomorrow?"

"Eager much?" I ask him with a laugh.

"Yes, as a matter of fact."

"I can't tomorrow. I'm working a double."

"Is that a good idea?" 

"Yeah, sure. Everyone feels bad for me and does half my work so I can rest. It's not bad." 

"So Wednesday is probably out too. I'm working Thursday night … so we're back to the weekend. Saturday? Oh wait … _I_ have to work. Sunday 's no good for me, either. Next Monday?"

"Working."

"You're working Monday night?" 

"No." 

"So after work then?" 

"I'm too tired after work these days. After a shift, I just want to go home and crash. Besides … it's _Monday_ … I wouldn't want to miss _Fear Factor_. I'm already missing it tonight … I wouldn't want to go two weeks in a row." 

"Abby …"

"Seriously, I'll be too tired. And I want to be able to enjoy it."

"Our date or _Fear Factor_?"

"Both. So not Monday. Tuesday?" 

"I have a Foundation thing. Wednesday?" 

"Hump day, are you kidding? I think we need to stay away from that." He rolls his eyes at me. 

"Well, we could go some afternoon, I guess." 

"No, I want to go in the evening. A _real_ date." 

"Okay." He sounds resigned. "So when?" 

"How about a week from Friday? I'm off all day, so I shouldn't … you know, fall asleep at 8:30." 

"A week from Friday? But Abby, that's almost two weeks from now." 

"Well …" I say, taking his hand, playing with his fingers. "It's not like we can't hang out in between then and now. You know, go to lunch, take walks like this …" 

"But no sex in the parking garage, right?"

"Right."

"What about kissing?" He asks, twirling me around on his hand and bringing me in close to him. 

"Hhhmmmm" I say, wrapping my arms around his neck and leaning up on tip toe. "I don't kiss on the first date," I tell him, giving him a grin and then kissing the tip of his nose. 

"Yeah, but this would be _before _the first date."

"Mmm, I don't think so."

"Really?" He says, skeptically. "I don't think I believe you."

"Try me." 

"Okay." He says, pulling me back into his arms. He leans down and captures my lips in a soft, sweet kiss. "See, I knew you didn't mean it." 

"Well …" I give him my best innocent smile. "But don't press your luck. After all, we haven't even been out on a proper date, yet." I say more sternly. I move away from him slightly then, but don't protest his arm slipping around my waist. 

"Okay, I promise to be a perfect gentleman. At least until this date of ours." He shakes his head in amusement, probably thinking my dating idea is a little crazy. But at least he's humoring me.

"Good. Just remember that I'm not making any promises about you getting lucky on this date."

"I know, I know. You wanna make me work for it." He says, with a bemused chuckle. 

"Something like that. But I'll tell you what … I'll let you take me home tonight." 

"But I can't come in."

"No, I think we're better off sticking to public places if we're gonna be alone."

"Abby, I'm hurt. I told you'd I'd be on my best behavior. You don't trust me?" 

"Well, if it's any consolation, I don't trust myself, either."

"Next thing you know, you'll be wanting a chaperone to come along on our date." 

"Well, I can see what Susan's doing." 

"Don't you dare."

He leads me away from the water and back the way we came. I'm surprised at how … easy this is. But it does feel comfortable, and maybe even … right? I don't know. But it feels good, anyway. Laughing and smiling with him. Spending these carefree moments when I'm not worrying about everything. And with one arm wrapped around him, my hand resting on his waist, my other hand resting on my own rounded belly, I feel … happy. A healthy baby girl, a second chance with her father. Things aren't perfect … but they're getting better all the time. And for now, that's good enough. 


	12. First Date

__

Title: Finding A Way Home

Author: Andrea 

Rating: R. Really, I mean that. So if you don't want to read anything rated R, please stop now. If there is anyone in the room who shouldn't be reading something rated R, please stop now. 

Author's Note: Thank you, COURTNEY. (I'm sticking with simple and to the point this time.) To everyone else, thanks for the reviews, please keep that up. And … Enjoy!

*~*~*~*

Finding A Way Home

Chapter 12: First Date

"Yuck!" I say to my reflection, peering into the mirror at my latest attempt to find a shade of lipstick that doesn't look absurd. Six colors later and I still haven't found one that works. So far I've tried six shades of lipstick, three different hairdos, and four outfits … which is saying a lot since I barely have that many pairs of pants that fit. 

"Get a grip, Abby," I mutter to myself. This is truly ridiculous. I've spent most of the day worrying about this date, and the past two hours trying to get ready for it. It's crazy. There's no reason to be nervous. It's not like I've never met him, never kissed him, never slept with him. You would think that having someone's baby would pretty much mean you wouldn't be nervous around him. But I guess not because I absolutely can't sit still. Never mind that we've had lunch together, whether at noon or at midnight, just about every day for the past two weeks. Never mind that we've probably talked more in these past couple of weeks than we have for months. I'm still nervous. 

But really, I shouldn't be. Things are better between us than they've been in quite a while. The awkwardness we've felt the last couple of months, the strain that existed before that -- it's mostly gone. We've enjoyed a lot of comfortable conversations about nothing -- and everything -- lately, and it's been nice. Really nice. So there's no reason for these unfounded fears that I'm having about tonight. It isn't any different from our lunch 'dates.' And there's no reason to worry about what we'll talk about. We haven't had any trouble with that so far. Probably because we have built-in topic of conversation. I rub my belly absent-mindedly as I wander out to the bedroom having given up on the whole lipstick thing.

"This is silly. It's fine. It'll be fine. Right?" I say out loud as I perch on the edge of the bed. Who am I talking to? The baby? Yes, I'm sure she has an opinion on the matter. "I'm losing my mind." On that note, I lean back against the pillows on the bed and close my eyes for a moment, trying to collect myself. 

The next thing I know I'm being shoved out of my stupor by banging on the door. He's here already? He's early. I glance at the clock. No, he's late. Oh, crap. That means I fell asleep. I can just imagine the rumpled clothes, the messed up hair, the nonexistent make-up. 

"Abby!" Now he's yelling through the door. He sounds a little .. Panicked. He probably thinks I've developed some rare pregnancy-related condition and passed out cold. 

"Hi," I say, yanking open the door with some force. Damn thing still sticks. 

"You're okay?" He asks, automatically reaching out his hand to touch the belly lightly. 

"Yeah … I just … fell asleep," I say sheepishly. 

"Oh, yeah … I can see that." 

"Scary?"

"No. Just a little … uh … well …" He messes with my hair for a minute. "There. That's better. It was a little … smooshed." 

"That a technical term?" I ask.

"Absolutely. Oh, here. These are for you."

"Chocolate!" I exclaim, way too excited by that fact. But hey, it's the good stuff. Not the Halloween candy that the drug store is selling two for five dollars this week. 

"I couldn't decide between candy or flowers. But I couldn't find any good dead flowers, and somehow, I figured something edible might be the way to go these days." 

"What tipped you off? My girlish figure?" I turn sideways and run my hand over my stomach, smoothing down my shirt. 

"You're getting kinda round there, Abby." 

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"You should. You look great."

"Thanks. Of course, you _have_ to say that, don't you?" He just chuckles in response. "Can you tell, yet?"

"When you do that, I can." I guess he's referring to my hands framing my belly. "But otherwise, not really." 

"Damn."

"You getting excited to announce it to the world?"

"Not exactly. But I'm afraid that as it is now, I just look fat." 

"Never. You really do look great."

"Again … this is a date. So you pretty much have to say that." He just shakes his head at me in amusement or possibly exasperation.

"So are you ready or do you need some time?" He asks. 

"Well, let me just …" What? Try on a dozen more outfits, attempt to do my make-up yet again? Screw it. Apparently he doesn't care if I look like a complete mess. "Never mind. Let's just go." I grab my jacket and bag, and we head down the stairs. 

"Okay. So … where are we going?"

"What do you mean, 'where are we going?' How should I know?" 

"Well, this whole date thing was your idea so I figured you were … you know … organizing it," he says, hopefully.

"No, that's your job."

"How do you figure?"

"Because you came and picked me up." 

"So?"

"So you're in charge."

"Abby, I've never been in charge of anything when it comes to you. Why start now?" His eyes twinkle and nudges me in the shoulder with his arm. He thinks he's so cute. 

"Okay, fine. We'll pick something together." 

"Well since you were sleeping … are you tired? Do you want to stick to something quiet … restful?"

"That was a power nap. I'm good now."

"So what do you feel like doing?"

"Well … let's see. I guess bowling is out thanks to my own little bowling ball." 

"You'd have quite a time trying to roll that bowling bowl down the lane." He pokes at the belly, then rubs it lightly for a minute. "Besides … since when do we bowl?"

"First time for everything. And it's a good date kind of thing. But not with the baby on board. I'd be sure to pull something or fall over. Same thing for line dancing. Although I doubt that my power nap would be enough to get me through a night of a dancing, anyway."

"Oh … I'm broken-hearted." 

"Yeah, I'll bet."

"Well, there's always the old stand-by," he offers. "Dinner and a movie." 

"Oh! Dinner."

"Hungry?"

"Always." 

"Okay, food it is." He says. "Where should we go?" 

"Oh, don't start that again." 

"Well, I thought maybe you'd be having a craving or something. What sounds good?"

"Everything."

"Okay, pizza it is then."

"Pizza?"

"Well, you said everything … pizza has everything. Meat, veggies, cheese …"

"It's warm and gooey and crispy …"

"I take it that's a yes."

"Absolutely. God, now I'm starving. Come on, let's go!" I grab his hand and haul him toward the Jeep.

"Glad to see you're so enthusiastic," he says, opening the door for me. 

"Well, there's food involved. I'm always enthusiastic," I tell him. 

And true enough, that enthusiasm lasts through dinner. I happily work my way through salad and bread, and my eyes light up when a giant, fully-loaded, deep-dish pizza gets put in front of us.

"I don't know where you're putting it all," he says to me, watching me take my third piece. 

"Hey, I'm a growing girl. And so is she." I say, gesturing to my belly.

"Yeah. Our little girl." 

"It's still so weird."

"That we're having a girl?"

"Yeah. Or maybe just knowing what we're having."

"It makes it seem more real, huh? I can just picture her so well, now."

"Yeah … I don't know. I thought it would … but I think it's actually made it more surreal. To know she's a girl, but not know what she looks like … what her name is … it's kind weird." 

"Well, I can't help you with what she looks like, but the name … we could work on that." 

I purposely take a big bite of pizza. I don't think I want to have this conversation yet. I could kick myself for bringing it up. 

"You have any ideas about a name?" he asks. I shrug, and shake my head. Give her a name? Just referring to the baby as 'she' is taking some getting used to … I can't imagine calling her by name. 

"Because I was thinking … well, I didn't know how you'd feel about it …"

"About what?" I ask, after I swallow my pizza.

"About … naming the baby after my grandmother."

"Millicent?" 

"You don't like it."

"Well … it is kinda … old-fashioned."

"It's okay," he says, but I see the disappointment on his face. 

"Well …I'll think about it."

"Really?" His face lights up like mine must have when that pizza appeared. 

"Maybe it'll grow on me." I kinda doubt it, but I can't bring myself to dash his hopes when he seems so excited. "Of course, Susan would be upset."

"Well, I know she and Gamma had their differences, but --"

"No," I say, with a laugh. "Susan's hoping we'll name the baby after her." 

"Oh." 

"She's so excited about this baby. Every time I talked to her today, she asked if the baby was kicking yet."

"Is she?"

"Kicking?" He nods. "No, not yet. I think I might have mentioned something like that." 

"Good. I wouldn't want to be missing out."

"You won't." I assure him with a smile that he returns.

"How many times did you talk to Susan today?"

"Um … I don't know. Five or six." He gives me a look. "I was nervous," I say by way of explanation.

"Nervous?"

"About this."

"Eating pizza?" 

"I didn't even know that I'd be eating pizza. No, just about … our date." 

"You were nervous?" I nod. "That's so cute."

"I know you think this whole thing is silly, but I'm serious about it. And I just wanted it to go well. I know that even if tonight had been a disaster, it wouldn't have changed anything. But I was hoping that it would start us off on a good note."

"How symbolic." I give him a dark look. "But I don't think it's silly, Abby. I think it's a good idea." He reaches across the table and takes my hand. "The whole starting over and going back to catch up on what we missed, I think that's great. I don't want you to think I'm not on board with this. I just find it hard to take this whole dating thing as seriously as you are … because it's not _really_ a first date. If it was, we'd be suffering through a lot more awkward silences and asking each other odd questions. Or struggling to make small talk. This feels way too comfortable to be a real first date."

"Well, that's true. I've never had a first date that was this easy. Then again, I've never been out on a first date with a man whose child I'm carrying."

"Yeah … I'd say this is fairly … unique."

"Kinda like us." 

He chuckles. "Are you ready to get out of here, or did you want to eat the tablecloth too?"

"That's not a very nice thing to say to someone who's carrying your baby. I'm gonna make you pay for that." I tell him as we make our way out of the restaurant.

"Uh-oh. How do you plan to do that?" 

"I want the biggest, butteriest, saltiest tub of popcorn that they have at the movie theater. And candy. I want candy."

"I already gave you candy tonight."

"Yeah, but I left that at home."

"Abby … how can you possibly think about eating popcorn?"

"Haven't we already been over this? Growing baby needs lots of food."

"And what good food it is … pizza, popcorn, candy."

"Hey, there were vegetables on the pizza."

"Oh, well, in that case …"

"Shut up," I say, but I move a little closer to him and he puts his arm around my shoulder as we walk down the street. "You should really stop arguing with me, you know. You're just lucky you haven't made me cry yet."

"Made you cry? Abby, I'm just joking around."

"I know that. But my hormones don't. Everything makes me cry these days." 

"Really? How come I haven't seen any evidence of this?"

"I hide it well," I tell him, with a shrug.

"So no sad movies then, huh?" He asks as we arrive at the movie theater that is just a short walk from the pizza place. "So what'll it be? Action, thriller, comedy, romantic comedy?"

"Romantic comedy? What is this? Are you actually offering to go to a chick flick?"

He shrugs. "First date, right? Isn't that what I'm supposed to do? Impress you with my sensitivity and open-mindedness?"

"Uh-huh," I say with a little eye-roll, turning my attention to the list of movies. We finally settle on some type of action-comedy, get my bucket of popcorn and settle into our seats. The movie turns out to be pretty good. The popcorn is even better. And I only have to get up and pee twice. At some point after I return from my first potty break, Carter reaches over and takes my hand. After I return from the second one, he wraps his arm around me, and I lean toward him, resting my head against his shoulder. We're still in that same position as the movie ends. Of course we have to stay and watch the credits. Carter always says that if you leave 'early' you might miss something. So generally, we're the last people in the theater. Tonight is no exception. 

As the screen goes blank and the house lights come up, he extricates himself from me. "Ready?" He asks me as I'm sitting up. 

And then I feel it. For the first time. 

"Oh my God." I say, my hands moving to my slightly swollen belly.

"What?" Carter asks, trying to fight the empty chair next to him for our coats.

"She's moving." I say quietly, still awestruck by the moment.

"What?" He says again, finally yanking on my jacket and freeing it from the seat that apparently tried to eat it. 

"She's kicking!" I say with a little more volume and a lot more excitement. His head whips around so fast I'm afraid he's hurt himself. 

"The baby?" He asks, breathlessly but with twinkle in his eye. 

"No, my aunt Frannie," I deadpan. And then, giving him a smile, "Yes, the baby. Here, give me your hand." I put his hand on my belly were I felt the first little punch, and we wait. 

"Hello in there," I say poking my belly with my other my hand, the one that isn't holding John's over the spot where I felt the movement before. And then I feel another kick, but this time near the spot that I was poking. Coincidence? I don't know, but I quickly move John's hand, under my own, to the new spot. And we wait some more. 

"Come on, princess, kick for Daddy," He says, leaning over to talk to the belly. 

And she does. Probably just another coincidence, but try telling Carter that. His face breaks into a huge grin as he stares down at the belly. 

"She kicked me." He says, in that same awestruck voice I was using a minute ago. "I mean … she kicked _for_ me. And I felt it. Wow." 

"Yeah, wow." By now both his hands are on my belly, waiting for more movement. And she doesn't disappoint. 

"She's really jumping around in there, huh?" 

"I guess she likes popcorn," I say. 

He smiles at me and then returns to staring at my stomach. We stay that way for a while. But when people suddenly start filing into the theter, it seems like it's time for us to go. 

"We should go," I say nudging him.

"Huh?" When he looks up at me, I realize he's in a whole other place and time.

"The next show is starting, so we need to go." 

"Oh, okay." He helps me into my coat and puts on his own in a daze. I stand up and take his hand, figuring I better lead him out or he'll never make it to the door. Once we get outside, the crisp night air seems to help, but he still seems a little out of it, even once we get back to the Jeep. 

"Are you gonna be okay, or did you need me to drive?" I ask as we stand inspecting the Jeep, but making no move to get in it. 

"Huh? What? Oh." With a sheepish smile, he shakes his head, trying to snap himself out of it, I guess. "No, I'm fine. I just can't believe it. She kicked!" 

Is still kicking to be precise. Strange how I didn't feel it before and now suddenly I can. I didn't even notice any little flutters. And then suddenly -- wham … there was her foot against the wall of my uterus. Of course, it's her uterus too for the moment … and I guess she's getting to the point where she's outgrowing it. Used to there was way more uterus than baby, but now she's catching up and filling in the space. No wonder she kicking. She probably just wants to stretch her legs. I smile at the image. 

"Pretty cool, huh?" Carter asks, catching my smile.

"Yeah. It is." I rest my hands on the little bump under my shirt, feeling the furtive moments within. Carter looks on with envy, since his hands are otherwise occupied for the drive back to my place. 

"You wanna come in for a while?" I ask when we get there. 

He just nods, but I can see that he's happy that I asked. As soon as we get upstairs and get our coats off, he's dragging me over to the couch. And the minute I sit down, he moves his head toward my belly, wrapping his hands around the bulge there. We stay that way for what seems like a really long time. It's probably just a matter of minutes, but sitting around with someone's head pressed against your stomach is really not as exciting as it sounds. 

"You know, I'm starting to feel like you're just using me to get close to the baby," I say, but with a light tone. 

"What?" He looks up with concern. Then he manages to tear himself away from my stomach and sit up straight. 

"Well, she started kicking. And that was it, you were gone. I've lost you completely to my fat belly." 

"It's not fat. And you haven't lost me at all. I was just … you know, bonding."

"Bonding with the baby?" 

"Yeah, exactly."

"Well, you know … you're not gonna make a very good first date impression when you spend all your time talking to some other girl, you know."

"Even when the other girl is our daughter? I told you, I was just doing some bonding." 

"How about bonding with the mommy," I ask, leaning forward to take his face in my hands and then kiss him. Just a soft, short little kiss.

"I thought you didn't kiss on the first date," he says when we break apart.

I shrug. "I lied. Besides, on most first dates, my baby doesn't start kicking. We can feel our baby kicking. I think that's cause for celebration." 

"I can get behind that," he says, leaning in to kiss me again. 

This time the kiss becomes much deeper, much more passionate, sparking a flurry of hormones and igniting my desire. His tongue slides along my lips, begging for entrance. I part them slightly and his tongue slips into my mouth, first battling my own tongue and then slipping sensuously over the contours of my mouth. Jesus. Immediately I feel a heat between legs, a hardening of my nipples. This is insane. I don't know how he does this to me every time. 

My hands are wrapped around his head, my fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. His hands are on my back, holding me close to him. As if I would even think of pulling of away. I lean into him and he lays back on the couch, pulling me down on top of him without ever breaking the kiss. 

"Abby," he moans when we finally come up for air. He attacks my neck with kisses that are light at first, but get steadily bolder until he's finally sucking at one particularly sensitive spot, causing me to moan and writhe against him. His hand slips under my sweater and tank top to my bare skin. It travels upward, finding a breast and gently kneading it. His touch causes the nipple grow even harder. I arch my back and moan again, not remembering the last time something felt so good. 

I move my hand off his shoulders, slipping them down his chest to the waistband of his pants where I free the tail of his shirt and then start unbuttoning it as fast as my fingers can manage. As soon as his shirt is off, he pulls off my sweater. I kick off my shoes and then slip my pants and socks off, leaving me in nothing but a pair of bikinis and a tank top that doesn't quite cover my slightly bulging belly. I reach for his belt buckle and find his hand on my wrist.

"Abby. Don't you want to …" 

"What?"

"Go to the bedroom?"

"What's wrong with right here?" 

"I don't know … neighbors, windows …"

"You think some pervert across the street has binoculars trained on my windows?" 

He shrugs. I look down at him and grin. He's so damn cute. I reach over his head to the lamp that is illuminating the room and switch it off. The room instantly falls dark, lit only by the light coming in from those windows.

"I doubt anyone can see much now. We're in the shadows over here. Happy?"

"Mmm, very," he says in low, throaty voice, reaching up to pull off my tank top. 

His head is resting on the couch, and I'm still propped up over him from reaching over to the turn out the light. All of which means that as soon as that tank top comes off, he pretty much has a face full of booby. He doesn't really seem to mind though. His hand slides up my bare back and pulls me closer to him. Close enough that he can reach out capture one of them in his mouth. He suckles gently, his tongue caressing the nipple. I arch my back against him, my leg slipping in between his and moving up slowly up and down, rubbing at a growing bulge. My hand traces patterns on his chest, stopping now and then to lavish special attention to his erect nipples and causing _him_ to arch his back. I roll over on top him, slipping my legs between his so that I can kiss my way down his chest. His hands are wrapped in my hair, and as I move lower, its silky smoothness fans out on his chest. He sighs in appreciation as I kiss around his belly button. 

And this time when my hands reach for his belt buckle, he doesn't stop me. I sit up on my knees and unfasten his belt and pants. I scoot further back on the couch so that I can slowly take off each shoe and sock, taking the time to massage each foot.

"Abby …" He sounds a little frustrated. 

"What?" 

"C'mon."

"You in a hurry?"

"You could say that. If _you_ don't hurry up, I'm gonna explode." 

"Oh. Well, Doctor, I didn't realize your pain was that serious," I say, crawling along the couch and moving to straddle his bare stomach.

"You have no idea," he tells me, wrapping his hands around my waist. I lean down to kiss him. While we share a deep kiss, I feel his hands slip off me and hear the distinctive jingling of whatever is in his pants pockets as they fall to the floor. I sit up once again and slip my hand behind my body, happy to discover that his boxers have joined his pants on the floor. I take hold of his stiff shaft and stroke lightly. 

"Abby," he moans. I love the sound of my name on his lips when he's in this state. "Please?" 

I get up on my knees, and we somehow manage to get my very damp panties removed and tossed to the floor with the rest of our clothing. 

His hands are on my hips, gently guiding me into position over his own. I hold his rock-hard penis at the right angle, positioning the tip at my entrance. Then I remove my hand as I let my body slide fully onto his, joining us together. 

"Mmm," I moan, my eyes closing as my head tips back in pleasure.

"Good?" he asks, as his hands cup my breasts. 

"Oh, God, yes," I say, realizing instantly how much I've missed this. 

"Oh … Abby, you feel so good," he tells me as he thrusts up inside of me.

I grind my hips against his and then start a gentle, rocking motion. It takes just seconds for us to synchronize our movements and settle into a good rhythm. His hands move to that same rhythm on my breasts, kneading and rubbing. I run my hands over his pecs and up to his shoulders and then back again, relishing in this closeness with him and the waves of pleasure running through my body. I can tell by his ever-increasing moans and sighs that he's feeling the same way. It doesn't take long for him to increase the speed, intensifying our movements. Soon we are both gasping and panting. Knowing that he won't last much longer, I slide one of my hands over his chest and down his stomach to where I'm gently bouncing on top of him. I move my hand between my own legs, helping myself to catch up with him. 

"Oh … yes … oh … Abby … oh … God … oh," he chants steadily. He seems to swell inside me as he pushes harder against me. My fingers move frantically between my legs as I feel him start to quiver. "Abby!" he cries out as, with a strong thrust, his climax hits. The heat of his release is all it takes to push me over the edge. A strangled gasp escapes my lips as my whole body freezes, the waves of pleasure crashing through me. And then, as all my muscles relax, I feel a big grin spread across my face. 

I collapse against his body, happy and sated. Immediately his arms wrap around me. We lay there quietly, wrapped around each other. He spots a blanket at the end of the couch and pulls it over us. I snuggle under the blanket, cuddling up against his chest. 

"Relaxed?" he asks after a bit.

I chuckle. "Yeah, you could say that." One of my arms is draped across his shoulder, the other is hanging off the side of the couch. "I think it's gonna be a while before I can move."

"That's okay, I'm not complaining." 

"Oh God, we are so pathetic."

"Pathetic? I thought it was damn good."

"No, not that." 

"So you thought it was damn good, too?"

"Yes, but that's not what I'm talking about. I'm talking about how we have no willpower. We were gonna take it slow, and now two weeks later here we are … naked. It's sad, really."

"Sad? It made me very happy."

"Well, me too. But it's sad how this keeps happening. We can't be alone together in a room for five minutes without all our clothes disappearing." 

"So?"

"So, doesn't it bother you that we can't seem to keep our hands off each other?" 

"Not really."

"But … I don't want it to be all about sex." 

"Abby … it's not. In the past five months we've had sex three times. That used to be your average week for us. Sometimes that was just one day for us. So I hardly think that we're out of control." 

"Yeah, but I don't want to use sex to try and make things better."

"We aren't doing that either, Ab. Things have been getting better. We've been talking and spending time together. For the past two weeks, we've been doing just fine keeping the sex out of it."

"Yeah … but now." 

"Abby … it's just the natural progression. I mean, I understand your point about making sure that we didn't jump into anything too fast. But these past couple weeks have been great. I think we've managed to reconnect. So this just seems like the next logical step. Especially considering that I've wanted you so badly for so long now that I could hardly stand it. That was the one bad part about this time we spent together these past couple of weeks. You were driving me insane. It was pretty hard to go back to 'platonic.'"

"'Sort of platonic.'"

"Well, to 'not getting carried away,' let's say. But you were right, it was worth it."

"But now that we're … _doing it_ again, I just want to make sure that we won't neglect our friendship this time."

"We won't."

"We have to do more than just argue and have sex. We have to talk, too. And spend time together when we aren't arguing or having sex."

"We will."

"Promise?"

"Yeah, I promise."

We go back to our companionable silence … until we feel something moving in between us. I crane my neck so that I can look up at him, and find him smiling down at me.

"Did you feel that?" I ask.

"Yeah. She's still kicking, huh?"

"I don't think she's gonna stop anytime soon. Although we may have put her to sleep for awhile. Or maybe I just didn't notice."

"Well, you were otherwise occupied." He kisses the top of my head. "Oh hey … there it is again. Wow, that's cool, I can feel her kicking against my stomach." 

"Yeah, me too." 

He slips his hand down to my belly. I roll over onto my side as best I can in the tight quarters of the couch. 

"Hi, princess," he says, patting my belly. "You're kicking Mommy, huh?" 

"Oh," I sigh. 

"What?" He looks at me. "Mommy?"

"Yeah. That's me." 

"You just figuring this out now?" 

"I guess." 

"Feeling her kicking like this makes it even more real, doesn't it?" he asks, rubbing the bulge. The kicking bulge. 

"Well … not exactly. I thought it would. But …"

"What? Abby, what's wrong?" he asks, seeing the tears in the corners of my eyes. 

I shrug. "I don't know … I just thought I'd feel more … attached. I mean, hearing the heartbeat, seeing the sonogram, finding out she's a girl, feeling her kick … it's all been really wonderful."

"But? You thought it would different?" 

"I guess … I thought I would feel more like a mommy. But it just seems so distant. I can't believe it's me … having this baby. That she'll be mine. It's just all too … unbelievable."

"Believe it, Abby. It's real," he says, looking pointedly at my growing belly. 

"I know it's real, it just doesn't feel like it."

"Why?"

"I don't know. Maybe … maybe because I always thought it was something I wouldn't have. I guess it's hard to get used to. And kinda scary."

"Because something could go wrong?"

"Yeah." I sniffle a bit, trying not to cry.

"You never know what's gonna happen, Abby. It took me a long time to figure that out … and to get used to it. But that's just the way it is. And you just have to hope for the best. And usually? Usually things work out. You'll see. I know you're worried about motherhood. And about the baby. But trying to distance yourself isn't going to protect you. Do you think … that maybe that's what going on? Maybe it doesn't feel real because you're trying not to let yourself get attached?"

"Wouldn't be the first time."

"Yeah, I know. But Abby, it doesn't work. I mean, I understand that urge to keep your distance. But no matter how much you try not to care, it just doesn't work. It still hurts when the bad stuff happens. And you've also missed out on all the good stuff that's supposed to make up for the bad stuff."

I can't help but chuckle. "You sound like Maggie," I say, snuggling my head against his shoulder.

"Well, she has her moments." 

"And so do you," I say, turning my head to kiss his shoulder. 

"You should try talking to the baby. It makes her seem … more like a real person."

"I'd feel silly." 

"Why? I talk to the baby all the time, don't I, princess?" He rubs the bulge for emphasis. 

"I sure hope Coburn was right about it being a girl. Because if she comes out a boy, and you've been calling him 'princess' all this time …" 

"Don't change the subject, Abby. C'mon, just try it."

"What am I supposed to say to her? I don't know how to talk to my belly."

"You're not talking to your belly, you're talking to your baby." I look at him skeptically. "Just talk to her like you would talk to any baby." He takes my hand and moves it down to my belly. "Go on, give it a try. It's easy."

"Uh … okay." I look down at my belly. "Um … hi." He nods encouragingly. "Hi, little one. I'm your … mommy. Abby. But I guess you'll call me 'Mommy.' I don't know what your name is yet. Carter and I … uh, _Daddy _and I will have to work on that. But don't worry, we'll find just the right name and let you know. Until then, I guess your daddy will just call you 'princess,' huh? I … uh, hope everything's okay in there. I'm glad I can feel you kicking now. It lets me know you're all right. You're kicking a lot now. You must be wide-awake. But … Mommy's getting tired. We've had a long day, huh?" I find myself rubbing and patting the belly as I talk, and I really do feel like I'm talking to her.

"See? It's not so hard."

"No, I guess not," I say with yawn.

"You really are tired, huh?"

"Did you think I'd lie to our baby?"

"Maybe we should get some sleep," he suggests.

"We? Who said you can stay?"

"What do you mean? After I just gave you the best first date of your life?"

"Well, okay, if you put it that way … I guess you can stay."

"Thank you."

"Anytime."

"Abby?" I look up to meet his eyes. "Thank you," he says sincerely, his voice full of emotion. 

"You're welcome." I reach my hand up to his cheek and turn his head toward mine so that I can kiss his lips. "And John?" I ask, when we end the kiss, our heads still bent together. 

"Yes?"

"Thank you. That really was the best first date I've even been on." 


	13. Just What We Need

__

Title: Finding A Way Home

Author: Andrea

Rating: R 

Author's Note: Thanks, COURTNEY, editor extraordinaire. Thanks for all the reviews, everyone. Fell free to do that again. And enjoy. 

*~*~*~

Finding A Way Home

Chapter 13: Just What We Need 

The phone rings, and my hand automatically reaches out for the receiver, groping around on the bedside table until I find it. 

"Hello," I say, my voice groggy and still heavy with sleep. 

"Oh!" The voice on the other end of the phone sounds startled. "I'm sorry, I must have the wrong number." Now the voice sounds familiar.

"Maggie?"

Silence. Then, tentatively, "John?" 

"Yeah."

"Oh, my God. Is Abby okay? The baby?" 

I glance down at Abby resting in my arms. She's yawning and blinking up at me, trying to wake up. She's lying alongside me, her firm little belly pressed against my side. I feel a little thump from within. Guess the baby's waking up, too. 

"They're fine. Great, in fact. Abby's right here. But I don't think she's really awake yet." A sleepy Abby snuggles into my shoulder.

There's another moment of silence while, I assume, Maggie takes in this information. When she speaks, I can almost hear the grin in her voice. "So I guess you're back together then?"

"Yeah," I say, a smile creeping across my face.

"For good, this time." There's a note of warning in her voice. I watch Abby lightly trace a pattern on my chest with her fingertips.

"I hope so," I tell Maggie. 

"Good. Oh, I'm so happy for the both of you. I know how much Abby wanted this." 

"It's what I wanted, too." By now, Abby's more awake and is looking up at me quizzically, motioning for me to give her the phone. 

"Well … congratulations." 

"Thank you. Okay, here's Abby," I say, preparing to give Abby the phone.

"John?" I hear Maggie say. 

"Yeah?" 

"Take care of them." 

"Oh, I will." I assure her, smiling as I hand Abby the receiver. 

"Hi, Mom." Abby says, sleepily.

I scoot down on the bed, turning from my back onto my side, lying face to face with Abby.

"No, you weren't interrupting _anything_." Abby rolls her eyes at me, and I can guess what Maggie was insinuating. Huh, not a bad idea. "Well, yeah, we were sleeping … well, I'm not working until tonight, and besides, we were … up late last night." 

I bury my head in Abby's naked shoulder, suppressing the giggles that threaten to escape. Yeah, I remember being _up_ a lot last night. Most of the night, in fact. Maggie's not that far off in her theory about what was going on here. If only we hadn't been taking a well needed break, we probably would have been up to _something_. And now that I'm snuggled into Abby's shoulder, taking in her scent -- the shampoo in her hair and the soap she uses mingling with the barely distinguishable but unmistakable muskiness of our lovemaking still clinging to her skin -- I'm feeling ready for a repeat performance. 

I kiss the soft skin of her shoulder lightly, quietly … moving my lips across her collarbone to kiss the hollow at the base of her neck. Her free hand slides up my back and rests at the nape of my neck. 

"I don't know …" Abby is saying into the phone, "A couple of weeks, I guess. But then last night …" I pause in the midst of my ministrations, waiting to see exactly what Abby intends to tell Maggie about our reunion. "We had a nice date." I smile and return to my former occupation, kissing a trail in between Abby's full breasts. "And … your _granddaughter_ started kicking." Apparently this is the first time that Maggie's finding out about the sex of the baby. Abby holds the phone away from her ear for a minute, and I can hear her mother's excited screeching at the other hand. 

"So I guess you're excited that it's a girl? … No, I know … So is John … Me? … Well, yeah, I guess … No, it just makes me a little bit nervous, I guess." I can guess what they are talking about. I know Abby's still a little worried about the ramifications of having a little girl. I raise my gaze up to her and smile at her. She smiles back, running her fingers through the hair on the back of my head. "Yeah, I'm sure it will be." She shakes her head and gives me another little eye roll. I figure it's time to encourage ending this conversation. 

I dip my head back to her breasts, licking and nibbling my way across her swollen flesh to find that little pink bud. As soon as my mouth closes over her nipple, she arches her back toward me and gasps quietly. 

"Mom? Hey, Mom? Can I call you back? It's … uh … time for breakfast." I look up at her and she shrugs at me. "The baby's getting hungry. Yeah, I'll call you back … Okay … Okay, I will … Bye, Mom." Abby drops the phone and I reach around for the receiver, intending to hang it up again. "Leave it," she instructs, moving closer to me. 

"So Maggie says, 'hi,'" Abby says, massaging my scalp while I'm still busy enjoying her new, pregnant boobs. "Mmm, that feels nice."

"So I guess they're not sore, anymore," I say, moving up to lay on the pillow next to Abby, letting my hand replace my lips. 

"Nope. Not for a while now."

I sigh. "All this time … I've been missing out. Seems such a shame to have wasted all these months of pregnant sex." 

"It is pretty good, isn't it?" She looks down at my hand caressing a swollen orb. "I guess you especially like those, huh?"

"Well … they won't last forever. So I figure I should enjoy them while I can."

"Well, they're very sensitive these days. So I'd be happy to have you enjoy them whenever you want."

"Good to know." 

Abby leans toward me and captures my lips with her own, her hands traveling down my back to my butt and pulling me closer to her. And then she rolls over onto her back, bringing me with her, letting her legs fall open to give me room to settle on top of her. And now we really couldn't be any closer. Well, okay, there's one way … but I have the feeling we're on our way to that. 

"Again?" I ask her.

She nods at me, with a very serious look. But then she smiles coyly. "Don't tell me you're complaining. I can feel how happy … Mr. Happy is."

I can't help but chuckle. "Who's complaining? I was just making sure." 

"Well, if we've exceeded your limit …"

"Me? I'm fine."

"Yeah, you are," she says, leaning forward to kiss my chest, her hands on my butt trying to pull me into her. Hey, why fight it? I slip inside of her easily as she lifts her hips towards mine, sighing in my ear. I roll us over as one so that Abby's now lying against my chest.

"You sure it's not too much for you?"

"What do you think?" She asks, grinding against me, her tight muscles massaging my hardness within her.

"What about the baby?" I grunt, my eyes closing involuntarily. 

"The baby's good. Don't you feel her kicking?" As a matter of fact, I do. With Abby on top of me, our bodies close together, I can clearly feel the kicks through Abby's stomach. Guess all is well in there. "Besides, we've got a lot of lost time to make up for. So I'm sure she'll understand us keeping her up all night. She'll return the favor soon enough."

Abby pushes herself up, sitting tall on top of me, my shaft still buried deep within her. She starts a slow rocking motion, as my hands move from her back around to her hips, finally coming to rest on the hard bump that is our baby. Looking at her body in the bright morning light, I realize how much she's changed since the last time we did this. Well, the last time until last night, anyway. 

"About that 'lost time' thing …" I say. Abby's eyes lock on mine. "I don't ever want to go through that again, Abby. I love you too much to be away from you."

I see the look of surprise settle over Abby's face. "You still love me?" She asks quietly, ceasing her movements. She looks down at me, biting on her lip. 

"Of course." I can't believe she ever doubted that. Why else would I be here with her, like this? I guess she just needs to hear it. "I love you."

Tears spring to her eyes and she swallows hard before whispering, "I love you, too." 

I slip my hands up her back, pulling her down to me, her chest against mine once again. She rests her head on my shoulder, her hand coming up to caress my face, our eyes still locked together.

"I missed you," she tells me.

"I missed you, too," I assure her. 

"Good. Now make love to me." So I roll her over once again. No matter that she shouldn't be lying on her back; this won't take long. 

"Again?" I ask her, thrusting into her.

"Again." 

So I dip my head down toward hers, capturing her lips in a kiss -- getting lost in her, getting lost in us, getting lost in our love. It feels so good to have it back. And this time around we've got something to show for our love. My hand strays back to Abby's belly, slipping in between us to find that place where our little love child grows. Abby grins up at me, and for the first time in months, everything feels right. There's no place else I ever want to be but right here in this bed with Abby and our baby girl. 

This is exactly where I should be. Always.

******

"I think we're gonna have to get up some time soon," Abby says several hours later. So many hours later, in fact, that the room is growing dark as the late afternoon sun wanes. 

"Why? We've done just fine staying in bed all day so far." 

Basically, we've been camped out in Abby's bed all day long. At one point, I crawled out of bed and into the kitchen, scrounging for food that I brought back to bed for Abby. Not wanting to wander around the apartment naked, I'd found my underwear and put it on, then brought Abby my button-down shirt to wear. I think it is my favorite look on her. We're still in our state of half-dress now, hours later, with Abby leaning up against the pillows, me with my head on a pillow in her lap, bonding with the baby. After all of our activity last night and this morning, we've been too tired to do much else this afternoon. So we've just stayed here, lying around, talking, dozing, feeling the baby's kicks. 

"Well, some of us have to go to work," Abby tells me, running her fingers through my hair. 

"I think … since you've been at home in bed all day … well, you must be sick. You should call in."

"I can't do that." 

"Why not?"

"Because if I called into work every time I wanted to stay in bed all day … with you, I'd never go to work."

"Really?" I ask, turning over from my side to my back and looking up at her. 

"So even though I don't really want to, I'd better make myself go to work. I wouldn't want to turn into a lazy bum."

"Oh, I don't know, I think bumhood could have its good points." 

"Yes, it's always been my dream to live in a cardboard box underneath an overpass. Except not really. So I guess I'll have to go to work so I don't get fired." 

"You could just quit. We both could." 

"And what? Just stay here in bed all day, everyday?" 

"Sure." 

"Because that wouldn't get old."

"Well …" 

"Today was great. Just what we needed. But if we vegged out like this all the time, it wouldn't be as much fun. Because it wouldn't be as special."

"But I think we should definitely try to do it more often." 

"Carter, if we _did it_ any more often than we have in the past eighteen hours, I think we would both pass out from exhaustion."

"That's not what I meant," I say laughing. "What time are you on?" I ask, sitting up. 

"Actually, not for a few hours. But I figured I'd better start getting used to the idea now." 

"What idea? Going to work?"

"I was thinking more along the lines of … walking. I'm still not sure how that one's gonna go yet."

"Sore?" 

"A little. It's been a while since I've had this kind of … work out."

"Sorry."

"Don't be."

"Want me to kiss it and make it better."

"Absolutely not. Keep your dirty mouth to yourself." 

"Dirty, huh?"

"Yeah, I might have to wash your mouth out with soap."

"Or you could spank me." 

"Stop it." She gives me an exaggerated eye roll. 

"Okay, fine. But you know, if we hurry …"

"John, I couldn't. Really. I was serious about that not being able to walk so well thing." 

"I was going to say that we could go get some dinner."

"Oh." She looks a little sheepish.

"And if we have time, there's someplace else that I wanted to go, too." 

"Oh yeah? Where?"

"Surprise."

"I hate surprises." 

"No, you don't. Who doesn't love a surprise? Especially when it's a great surprise like … well, you know …" I say with a nod of my head toward her belly. 

"Ah, yes. Little Surprise, here." There's a note of sarcasm in her voice, but her hands pat her little bump as she smiles down at it fondly. 

"Princess Surprise." 

"That sounds like a very scary child's toy. The kind you have to run around searching for weeks before Christmas, just to have it break five minutes out of the box." I can't help it, I find myself laughing happily at this image. "What?" Abby asks. 

"I can't wait. That's gonna be us, you know. Pretty soon we'll be those crazed parents who will stop at nothing to get our child the perfect toy."

"Speak for yourself."

"You just wait and see. Wait until she's begging for a Princess Surprise doll for three months straight. And she keeps looking up at you with big puppy dog eyes, just like mine. You know you won't be able to resist." 

"You're crazy," she tells me, as she starts to get up.

"So you've told me before. Where are you going?" 

"To take a bath. I better get going if we're gonna have time for my surprise."

"You want some company?"

"That depends."

"On what?"

"Whether or not you can be good." 

"But I'm always good." 

"I _meant_ if you can behave yourself."

"Oh, I'll behave myself. Mostly because I'm too tired for anything else."

"Fine. Then you can come."

"Didn't you hear me, Abby? I just said I was too tired to --"

"Shut up," she says with a laugh … and another eye roll in my direction. "You're not funny."

"Then why are you laughing?" 

"When I think of a good comeback, I'll let you know." 

"Oh well, I'll be anxiously awaiting that." 

She narrows her eyes at me. "Just get in the tub." 

"What if I don't? Are you gonna punish me?"

"No," she says in a singsong voice, "I _won't _punish you." She gives me an amused and flirty look.

"Yeah. So why I don't I just go run that bath?" I say, as I head into the bathroom. 

"What a good idea." Her voice is dripping with sarcasm as she follows along behind me, smacking my ass when I lean over the tub to turn on the water. 

"Hey!"

"Just a little taste of things to come. You know, if you're a bad boy."

"Oh, I can be a very bad boy." 

"I'll bet you can," she says as she wraps her arms around me and stands up on her tiptoes to kiss me. "You light the candles, and I'll get the bubbles." 

"Oh, bubbles." Wow, this day just keeps getting better. 

******

"So where's my surprise?" Abby asks for the fifty-thousandth time. 

"You'll see. We're almost there. I just hope it's still open." 

"Still open? So … since we just ate … I'm guessing it's some kind of store?" 

"You'll see." 

"Well, I don't think it's the movies since we just did that last night. Ooh, is it like some kind of spa? Are you taking me to get a massage? But you can't just walk in for that, can you? Although walk-in massages might be a good idea. And it would be an excellent surprise." She looks up at me hopefully. 

"Sorry, no. It's not a massage. But I'll keep that in mind for future reference." 

"So where _are_ we going?" 

"As a matter of fact, we're just about there." I tell her, happily taking note of the light shining out from the window. Still open. I open the door for Abby and usher her in. 

"This is my surprise?" She looks a little … befuddled.

"Yeah. Isn't this place great?"

"It's a … baby store." 

"Uh-huh. Because we're … having a baby? I sort of stumbled over this place last week. I just peeked in the window then. I wanted to wait and come back with you. Wow, look at all this stuff." 

It isn't a real big space, but it's devoted entirely to baby paraphernalia. Everything from nursery furniture to diaper bags fill the store. From what I can see, the store is set up in sections, each section meant to look like a nursery complete with furniture, wall coverings, bedding, and various baby items … all samples of what the store has for sale. 

"C'mon," I say, grabbing Abby's hand. "Let's look around. See if we see anything we like." 

"John, wait. I don't know if …"

"Did you realize there were so many cribs to choose from? I mean, there's light and dark, painted and stained, fancy and plain. There are even ones with canopies, and this one is brass." I let go of her hand and move over to a nearby display. "Look at this one, Abby," I say with a grin. "It's a four poster crib. And it has little animals on the top. Like for a jungle theme. Or Noah's ark."

"You like that one?" She asks, her voice curiously flat. I thought she'd be excited to see all this stuff. I think it's all pretty neat. 

"Well, actually, I think it's a little dark. Maybe a little bit … much. For a baby's room. But if you like it …" She just shrugs, shakes her head 'no.' "You'd probably like something simpler, right? And Abby, whatever you want. So what do you like?" I ask, gesturing around to all the various displays. 

"I don't know. There's so many … I don't really know where to start."

"Oh now, don't you worry about that, dear." A woman materializes next to Abby, clearly one of the salesladies here. "Lots of first time mommies feel that way," she continues, "But that what's I'm here for. When is the happy day?" The woman reaches out and puts her hands on Abby's barely-showing belly, and Abby literally freezes in place, staring at the woman's hands. Oh no, this isn't gonna be pretty. 

"Uh … March," I say, taking Abby by the arm and pulling her over to me. I wrap my arm around her, instead of letting this stranger keep touching her, something I know she hates. 

"Well, isn't that nice?" The saleslady asks enthusiastically. A little too enthusiastically. She claps her hands together, and her eyes even look a bit misty. I glance over at Abby, who slides her eyes sideways toward me, and then quickly looks away before we can both start laughing. "And do you know what you're having?" 

"A girl," I tell her. 

"Oh, a little girl. Well, that's just so much fun. I always wanted a little girl myself. I got three boys instead. And wouldn't you know I have three grandsons now, too. You must just be so excited to get to pick out all these cute pink things." She says this to Abby, who is still looking at her like maybe she just arrived from some other planet. 

"Uh … yeah, I guess." Abby gives me a look that plainly says, 'get rid of her.'

"You know," I say to the saleslady in as cheerful a voice as I can muster, "We really appreciate your help. But we've still got a few months to go, so it's a little early for us to buy anything." Maybe without dreams of a big commission, she'll leave us alone. 

"Oh, it's never too early," she tells me, shaking her finger at me. 

"Well, we're just looking right now." I say firmly. She gives me a brief look of scorn, before perking up once again. "Well, if you don't see anything that's just right for your perfect nursery out here, you come on back and see me. I have catalogues for everything. I just got a new one, in fact, with prints made especially for little girls. Every shade of pink imaginable. And the flowers. Just perfect for a precious little baby girl." She peers around me and looks at Abby, reaching out to touch her again. Luckily Abby just happens to 'sneeze' at that moment. The saleslady yanks her hand back, and moves to the back of the store, assuring us that she'll be there if we need any help. 

Next to me, Abby flops down in one of the rockers. "Ugh, I can't take it. I can't take this pressure," she says, holding her head in her hand. 

"It's okay, she's gone. Now we can just browse."

"Great," Abby says, sounding less than thrilled at the prospect. But she does take my hand and stand up to walk around with me. We wander the store with me pointing out various things that I like, and Abby half-heartedly giving an opinion on them. Mostly, though, she doesn't seem to care. And I was so sure she'd enjoy this. I thought it would be so much fun, but the last thing I want to do is drag Abby around.

"We might as well go, I guess," I say, hearing my own disappointment. It's not a big deal, it's really not. But still …

"I'm sorry, I guess I'm just not … into this right now."

"It's okay. I just thought it would be fun." 

"I know. And I can see how excited you are, but …"

"But you're not."

"It's just a little overwhelming."

"No, Abby. It's just furniture."

"Yeah, furniture. And high chairs and playpens and strollers and carseats. And what it I pick out the wrong stuff?" 

"What do you mean, 'wrong?' You pick what you like." 

"Believe me, if there's a way to pick the wrong thing, I'll find it. What if I don't get the best stroller? Or the safest carseat?"

"They wouldn't sell it here if it wasn't good. If it wasn't safe. And besides, we're just trying to get some ideas about furniture right now. One crib is as good as the next. They all meet the safety standards. So this is the fun part. Where we get to go for form, not function. You don't see _anything_ here that you like? Just something that you think is pretty?" 

"Well …" she smiles a bit and leads me back the way we came, to a display close to the door. "This one's really pretty." And that it is. It's what you would call a sleigh crib, I guess. The ends curving out in the shape of … well, a sleigh. It's stained a dark cherry color, a deep red tone with a nice sheen to it. Simple lines making it not too fancy, but the color and shape dressing it up a bit. 

"I like this one, too. See? That wasn't so hard, was it?" She shakes her head and smiles almost shyly, tucking her hair behind her ears. "Now we just have to pick out the changing table, the dresser, the rocker, the bedding, the curtains …" 

She puts a hand on my chest, "Think we can save that for another day?" 

"Sure. Think we should order the crib now?" 

"God, you're like a kid waiting for Christmas. No, I think we should just wait. In case we change our minds or something. Besides, where would I put something this beautiful? Next to my ratty old couch? Or shoved in the corner of the bedroom next to the dresser with the broken drawers? Jesus, I don't think I have room for it. Not to mention all this other stuff."

I look at her for a long moment. I want so much to tell her what I'm thinking. That there's plenty of room at my place for this crib, all the other baby stuff, all the toys and books a child could ever want, and most importantly, for Abby and our daughter. There's no need to worry about room in her apartment because she doesn't need it anymore. I want her, I want them, with me. Always. I don't want to stop by and visit my child's life, I want to be her daddy. I want to be there. 

"What?" Abby finally asks, putting her hand against my cheek. "You look like you're a million miles away. Don't worry, I'll make room for the baby stuff. She won't have to sleep in the broken dresser drawers." 

"I know … I was just thinking …"

"What?"

I study her again for a minute. No, this isn't the time or place. "I was just thinking that we should probably get you to work. I wouldn't want you to be late." 

"Oh … work." Abby sticks her tongue out at the thought. 

"Well, I tell you what … I'll drop you off now and come back later with another surprise." 

"Oh, boy."

"No, I think you'll actually like this one."

"I liked this one. I would have liked a massage better. But other than being assaulted by Ms. Perky and Pink, this was pretty good."

"Uh-huh." 

"Really. Look, I'm sorry I don't have as much enthusiasm over this as you do. I'll try to work on that."

"Okay." 

"So what's my other surprise?" 

"If I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise."

"Yeah, but I hate surprises." 

I shake my head at her. "Well, I'm trying to change your mind about that." 

"Good luck," she says lightly, as we head out the door. 

"Thanks," I tell her. 

But I know I don't need her to wish me luck. I'm already lucky enough. After all, I have her back. We have our baby. What else could I… what else could _we _need? 


	14. Up On the Roof

__

Title: Finding A Way Home 

Author: Andrea _(CarbyLove@aol.com__)_

Rating: R

Summary: Abby and Carter broke up. But there's a little something keeping them together and keeping their feelings for each other alive and kicking. It took them a while, but they finally decided to give into those feelings they were trying to deny and get back together. When last we saw them, they were still in the midst of one very long, very eventful 'first date.' So now what? 

Author's Note: This one is for COURTNEY. Thanks for the migraine, dude. How did you know that's what I wanted for Christmas? Seriously, thanks for the input. Sorry if this still isn't ideal. You can't win them all. And thanks to LISA for the reassurance. Thanks to all my loyal readers, and a special thanks to everyone who reviews. Sorry it's taken so long to get this chapter up. This whole writing fanfic thing is getting increasingly … complicated. Difficult, even. So enjoy this update, I don't know when (if?) I'll manage to do it again. 

*~*~*~*

Finding A Way Home

Chapter 14: Up On the Roof

"You can run, but you can't hide," Susan says, shutting the exam room door behind her. 

"Who's hiding? I was … resting." So I just happened to be resting in an empty exam room instead of the lounge … I'm not hiding from Susan. Not really. 

"Yes, but you've been avoiding me all night."

"No, I haven't." 

"Of course you have. And I think it's truly unfair. I mean, how many times did I talk you off that ledge yesterday?" She asks, before breaking into an imitation of me. "Help me, Susan, I don't know what to wear. How do you think I should do my hair? What shoes should I wear? Which color should I paint my nails?"

"Oh, I did not ask you what color I should paint my nails. Or anything about my shoes. And I was just … consulting you about my hair and clothes."

"Yeah, but you consulted me every five minutes. So it seems only fair that you should at least tell me how it went." 

"How what went?"

"The Geneva Convention, Abby," She says in a flat voice. I guess she doesn't _really_ want a history lesson. "Your _date_!"

"Oh, that."

"Yes, _Abby_," she says with exaggeration, in a slightly patronizing tone, "… _that._ So c'mon, cut the crap, Ab. I want the details."

"Details?" I ask nervously. I don't think I even want to give _Susan_ the details. 

"Well, let's start slowly. How did it go? Good? Bad?"

"It was … fine." 

"Fine?"

"Yeah." 

"'Fine,' she says. All that agonizing that I went through with you and all I get is _fine_? There's something you're not telling me. What is it? Did you two run off to Vegas and elope?" 

"No! Besides, I wouldn't want to copy off you."

"Oh, sorry. You went to Tahoe and eloped?" 

"We didn't go anywhere and elope!" 

"You stayed here and eloped? Is that even possible?" 

"We didn't elope! And we didn't run off anywhere, either."

"Then where were you all day?" 

"What do you mean? I was home all day."

"With the phone off the hook? I must have tried to call you six times. Nothing but a busy signal." 

"Well, I was … resting up for my shift tonight." 

"Alone, I suppose?" She asks, sitting down next to me on the gurney I'm occupying.

"No. Of course not."

"Really?" Susan's eyebrows shoot up as she leans toward me, in gleeful anticipation, I suppose.

"Well, I'm never alone these days," I say patting my belly.

"Oh. That's not funny. C'mon … tell me about the date." 

"Well, we went to dinner." 

"Okay. And?"

"And … we ate pizza."

"Uh-huh. And?"

"And then we went to a movie. It was pretty good."

"And?" 

"Oh! And the baby started kicking." 

"Really? She did?" I nod with a little smile. "Is she kicking now?" I nod again, then reach for Susan's hand, putting it on my stomach. 

"Oh! I felt that," she says after a minute. 

"Yeah, me too."

"You're getting quite a little belly there." She lifts my shirt up to better inspect the little belly. 

"Mm-hmm," I agree, tugging my shirt back down over my exposed stomach.

"When did it start?"

"Probably weeks ago, but I only noticed last night. Just after the movie ended, in fact."

"So Carter was there?" 

"Yep. She's got good timing, I guess." I look down at the little bump under my shirt, rubbing it fondly. 

"He must have been excited."

"Speechless, even. I think he was kinda … blown away."

"I guess that was the highlight of the date, huh?"

"Well, one of them."

"What does that mean?" I just look at her. "Abby!"

"What do you think it means?" 

"Oh my God. I should have known -- it's written all over you." 

"Am I walking funny?" I didn't think I was … but if she thinks it's that obvious … maybe I am.

"No." She gives me a look. "That … good?" 

"No. I mean, yeah, it was, but …"

"That … rough?" 

"No! That … often." Okay, now I'm blushing.

"Ooh," Susan says in a knowing voice. "Making up for lost time?" 

"I guess," I say with a nervous giggle. "So how exactly is it written all over me?"

She shrugs. "You're just … kinda glowy."

"I don't think that's a word. But, you know, I _am_ pregnant. So if I'm _glowy_ … that's probably why." 

"Nah, this is something else. You look … contented, relaxed. Happy, I guess."

"Well … I am. I mean …" 

Just then the door opens. I turn to look and see Carter peeking in at us. As soon as he catches sight of me, his face lights up in a smile. He walks across the room and leans down to give me a hello kiss. I automatically lift my head toward him and our lips meet in a quick kiss. 

"Hi," he says.

"Hi." And he leans into kiss me again, a slightly longer kiss this time. 

"So that's how it is with you two, now, huh?" Susan says, causing us both to open our eyes and look toward her, our faces still mere centimeters apart. 

"You didn't tell her?" John asks, straightening up and then moving to sit down next to me, putting me in the middle. 

"Of course I did."

"I figured as much. You usually tell her everything." 

"She didn't tell me _everything_," Susan says, causing me to swivel my head around toward her. "In fact, we were just getting to the good part when you showed up." 

"The good part?" Carter asks, sounding like he's not sure he wants to know. 

"Yeah, you know … the details," Susan says.

"You're not getting the details," Carter tell her. 

"That's what you think," Susan informs him.

"Abby, tell her she's not getting the details." I feel like I'm at a tennis match the way I'm craning my neck back and forth. I give Carter a long look before I turn back to Susan. 

"You're not getting the details," I tell her with a smile and waggle of my eyebrows. Although in all honesty, I'm not sure I will give her the details. But I'm not telling Carter that. Especially since he's trying to boss me around. 

"_Abby_!" Carter screeches behind me. Now how did he know? He couldn't possibly see the face I made at Susan. But he could probably tell from the tone of my voice.

"What?" I ask, whipping my head around toward him. 

"Don't do that," he says, wagging his finger at me. 

"Don't wag your finger at me," I say, grabbing the offending digit. 

"Are you gonna make me stop?" He asks, twisting his finger out of my grasp and then interlacing all his fingers with mine. 

"Maybe." 

"And just how do you plan to do that?" He asks, leaning his head closer to mine. 

"Well, I can think of a few ways," I tell him, moving in to kiss him.

"Okay, well, this is sounding a little bit too much like foreplay to me, so I think I'm gonna get out of here," Susan says, standing up. 

"Relax, Sus," I say, "We're not gonna do anything in here."

"Oh sure, famous last words. So I'll be sitting here trying to talk to you two, and the next thing I know I'll be covered in random articles of your clothing. No thanks. I'll just see you guys … later." With that, she turns and heads out the door. 

"So now that we're alone…" Carter says.

"Don't even think about it," I tell him. 

"That's not what I came here for anyway." 

"Oh no?"

"Nope. I came to bring you your surprise."

"Oh, yeah." 

"Try to calm down, Ab. All this excitement isn't good for the baby." I roll my eyes at him. "Would you relax? It's no big deal. Can you take a break?"

"I just took one."

"So take another one." 

"Well …"

"C'mon … Susan'll lie for you." 

So I let him lead me, hand-in-hand, through the halls to the elevator. We only have to hide twice, ducking into an alcove and an exam room respectively, in order to avoid our colleagues. 

"Where are we going?" I ask as we head upstairs. 

"You need to learn some patience, Abby." 

"Hmph," is about all I have to say to that. 

He shakes his head at me as he leads the way onto the roof. 

"I would have preferred the river," he says, "But I didn't think there would be enough time. So … this seemed like a good choice. We can still enjoy the stars."

"It's a picnic," I say with a smile. There's a blanket spread out, a couple big pillows tossed on top of it, a picnic basket waiting in the middle. 

"I figured it would be a pretty safe bet that you would be hungry."

"Yeah, that's pretty much a sure thing these days."

"So what are you waiting for?" He asks me, giving me a gentle push toward my awaiting picnic. When we reach the blanket, he takes my hands and helps me settle down onto one of the pillows.

"Thank you," I say with a small laugh. 

"You're welcome." He settles down next to me and begins unpacking the picnic basket. The first thing to come out are several low, wide candles that he sets up and lights.

"A candlelight picnic." I draw my knees up in front of me, resting my hands on top of them, my chin on top of my hands while I watch him remove bread, cheese, fruit and sparkling juice from the basket. 

"Ever been on one of those before?"

"Nope," I say, shaking my head. "So what's the occasion?"

"Well, we did just get back together. That's cause enough for celebration, isn't it?" I just shrug. "Besides, why does it have to be a special occasion? Can't it just be for no reason at all? Just because I felt like it?" 

"I'm not used to all this fuss over nothing." 

"It's not nothing. You're having my baby. She just started kicking … Besides, it's no trouble. It's just a picnic."

"Well, I haven't been on a lot of picnics in my life. And only one that someone has packed especially for me." 

"Oh, yeah? And here I thought I was being wildly original."

"Well, it wasn't a candlelight picnic. And trust me, it wasn't nearly this nice. Besides, there were … ulterior motives." Carter raises his eyebrows at me in question. "It was an anniversary, I think. Knowing Richard he forgot, and it was the only thing he could pull together last minute. Not to mention that he always was a cheap bastard." 

Carter laughs at that, but then his face clouds over a bit. 

"What?" I ask. He just shakes his head, but I can see that something is bothering him. I think I can guess what. "I'm sorry," I say. "I shouldn't have said anything." I reach out and grab his hand. "But really, this is much more special." 

"It's not that." He turns my hand over in his own and traces a pattern on my palm.

"Then what is it?" 

"It's … silly."

"That's okay. You can tell me." 

He looks at me for a long minute. "Well, sometimes I get kind of … jealous."

"Of … _Richard_? Why? The man is a horse's ass."

"Yeah, but he was your … husband."

"Pfft … don't remind me."

"You know what I mean, Abby. You were _married _to him. I'm just …"

"The father of my child." 

"Yeah … but even so. He was still … first." 

"First? What are you talking about? He wasn't _first_. Remember Howie?"

"That's not what I was talking about."

"Then what were you talking about? First? First to what? Oh …" I say, light dawning as I feel some fluttering in my abdomen. "First to … get me pregnant?"

"Well … he was." Carter looks down, blushing. Probably worrying that he's brought up a sensitive subject. I put my hand on his cheek, a finger under his chin so that I can lift his head up and look him in the eye.

"Yeah, but … that doesn't matter. It doesn't matter who's first … it's the last dance that counts. And it's _your_ baby that I'm having. What I couldn't do with Richard, I'm doing with you. Because of you. You're the reason why I couldn't go through with the abortion this time. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be sitting here with this little round belly that's thumping against my hand." 

"I know," he says, his hand joining mine on my belly, "But it's just kinda weird."

"What is?" 

"Well, you're having my baby, but you have his name."

"That doesn't matter, either." 

"It matters to me. I don't want out baby being born to you while you have another man's name."

"John …" I get busy arranging the food, finding a plate, piling up some cheese and fruit. I have an idea where this conversation is going, but I don't really want to go there. Getting back together has been great … wonderful even. But it's only been a day. I'm not ready to make him any promises yet. 

"Abby." I look up at him, hastily stuffing a piece of cheese in my mouth. My eyes meet his again, and for a moment we have one of those silent conversations where neither of us has to say a word. I know what he's thinking, and it involves visions of me in a white dress, waddling down the aisle I'm afraid. I can tell that he senses my reluctance. His face changes slightly as a bubble of frustration makes its way to the surface. 

"Well, we should," Carter finally says, his light tone not really masking the underlying irritation.

"We … _should_?" I ask. "That's exactly what I don't want. You feeling obligated." 

"I didn't mean it like that, Abby. I just meant … we're back together, we're having a baby. No matter what, our lives are forever entwined now. And that's fine with me… in fact, it's exactly what I want … because I don't want to live my life without you. I know that now. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I …" he pauses, presumably trying to come up with the perfect words to convince me. Finally, he simply says, "I love you. So why not get married?" 

I look at him for a long minute, trying to decide how to respond. In the end I retreat to the familiar flip response. "What is it with you and these rooftop proposals?" 

"Well, the last one went so swimmingly well, I just couldn't resist," he says, deadpan, but amused, judging by the look on his face. I just give him a look. "I'm not proposing, Abby. I didn't want to put you on the spot like that. I know that things have been … well, we've been through a rough patch, and we're only now staring to figure it all out. But I'm sure, now, of what I want. I want to be with you. For the rest of my life. But I don't want to rush you. Or make you feel pressured …"

"But?" I ask, thinking there must be one coming. 

"But … I do think we should talk about it. I want you to know where I stand. And I want to marry you. Because we belong together. Because I can't imagine myself spending the rest of my life with anyone other than you. But I'm not going to ask you and force your hand. When you're ready, the offer will still be on the table."

"You're not gonna try to talk me into it?" I ask, surprised, but relieved. 

"Nope."

"But you just said … well, you know, all that stuff about me having Richard's name when I give birth to your baby."

"Well, maybe by then you won't." He waggles his eyebrows at me. "But if not … well, that does bother me, I'm not going to pretend it doesn't. But it's more important to me that when … if we get married, you're sure that it's what you want. That's more important than being married before the baby gets here. And if you're never sure, well …"

"No matter what, this baby's a Carter." I guess it's not much of a consolation, but at least it's something.

"And I want that duly noted when she's born." He's shaking his finger at me, but smiling. 

"It will be. But you're wagging your finger at me again."  


"So?"

"So … cut it out."

"Okay, okay," he says, waving his hands in an 'I give up' gesture before turning his attention to the food. 

"John?" I ask, fiddling with a piece of bread, tearing tiny pieces off and popping them into my mouth. 

"Hmm?" He asks, his mouth full.

"I thought you wanted to talk about it."

He swallows hastily, "'Bout what?" 

"Uh … you know. About … getting married? Don't you want to know how I feel about it?" 

"Well … I kinda figured you didn't want to. Get married, that is." 

"I wouldn't exactly say that. It's not that I don't want to … it's just … I wouldn't want to do it for the wrong reasons. I just want to take some time to … make sure it's gonna stick." I look up at him, giving him a little grin. "So I'm not saying no … I'm just saying not yet." 

"Except I didn't ask."

"Yeah, I know. I just hope you're not too upset." 

"I understand. I do."

"Really? Because I don't want to … hurt you. I want to be together. It's just … all this change is kinda hard for me. I need to take it one step at a time. You know?"

"Yeah, I know. Of course, there's always a long engagement." He gives me a lopsided, hopeful smile with that one. 

"Carter …" I'm not buying, but I can't help but smile at his eagerness. A part of me wishes that I could give him what he wants, but it's just too soon for either of us to be making that kind of commitment. 

"Okay. Okay, no strings. I'm not gonna ask you to make any promises." 

"Thank you."

"Of course … there is one other option."

"What's that?" 

"You could move in with me." 

"Into the mansion?" I think my voice went up a couple octaves on that one.

"It is where I live."

"Oh, Carter. I don't know. The place is huge. And all the servants … and … well, it would be like living in a castle." 

"Exactly. A castle for our little princess here," he says, putting his hand back on my belly, "And you could be the queen." 

I just shake my head at him. "Would that make you the king? I'm not so sure about that."

"C'mon, Ab …it could be fun." He wraps his arm around and pulls me against him.

"I don't know. I'm not sure I could be comfortable there. Besides, I'm not gonna just move out of my apartment. I must have at least a good six months left on my lease."

"Well, then you've got plenty of time to think it over." Stress on the thinking it over part, I think. 

"Yeah, okay. I'll think about it."

"Really?" I nod, then shiver a bit. "You cold?" He asks. But before I can even answer, he's taking off his jacket, wrapping it around me. I slip my arms into the sleeves and pull it closed around me, before leaning against him again. 

"Thanks."

"It's the least I could do, since I'm the one who dragged you up here." 

"Without mentioning that I might want to bring my coat." 

"Well, I didn't want to give away the surprise."

"The _picnic_ is the surprise, right?" I ask, just making sure.

"Yeah. You're not gonna bite into a ring anywhere." He really seems to be taking this pretty well, joking around with me about it and everything. "But you know, you're really making things complicated."

"Complicated?"

"Yeah, I don't know what we're gonna do about the nursery now."

"Don't remind me about that, either." 

"I don't get it, Ab. What's the big deal about the baby stuff? It's supposed to be fun."

"I know. But it isn't. It's silly, I know. But there're just so many choices. And I don't know where to start. I know it's ridiculous, but I'm gonna agonize over every last little thing, even though I'm sure I'd be happy with any of them. But when I'm staring at twenty high chairs, how am I supposed to know which one to get? Not to mention bottles, pacifiers, diapers … people write entire books on the subject."

"Is it really stressing you out that much?"

"Yeah. I know it's dumb, but … I don't know, I just dread the whole thing. Seventy-two hours of labor sounds like more fun than trying to outfit the nursery. I wish it would all just magically appear." 

"Abby …" He's laughing at me now. "It won't be that bad. I promise. And I'll be there to help. We'll just get one thing at a time. Or we'll get it all over with at once. Whichever is easier for you. And believe me, it won't be as bad as labor."

"I guess," I say, still not convinced. I look up at him and see him shaking his head, but smiling in amusement. 

"Only you, Abby. But you sure do keep things interesting. I never know what to expect."

"Hurricane Abby, huh?"

"Tornado. You're the tornado."

"Same difference."

"Close enough., I guess. But sometimes I wonder …"

"What?" I ask, looking up at him.

"Well …" He gives me that charming, winsome smile of his. "What am I gonna do with you, huh?" He leans down and kisses my forehead. I just shrug. 

"I can think of several things, but none of them would be very appropriate or … comfortable here," I tell him, reaching my hand up to his cheek, bringing his face down so I can kiss him as a little teaser of things to come.

"Guess I'll just have to give you dessert, then." 

"But that's what I was just saying, I don't think it would work out so well here. We'll have to save it for later." 

"No, Ab … I meant actual dessert." 

"Oh … there's dessert? Why didn't you say so sooner?" I lean forward and peer into the picnic basket. "Oh … cake!" 

"Chocolate cake. But I didn't make it." 

"Yeah, the bakery box kinda tipped me off on that one."

"Nothing gets by you. Our baby is so lucky … she's gonna have such a smart mommy."

"Shut up."

"I was serious." 

"Yeah, right. Smart? More like smart ass."

"Well, that too. But we'll call it your quick wit."

"Uh-huh."

"Really, Abby. We're so lucky." 

"We are? I mean, we are … but what exactly are you talking about?"

"Actually, when I said 'we,' I was talking about the princess and I. We're lucky to have you."

"I don't know about that. But I think the baby and I are pretty lucky to have you."

"Well, then … I guess it's our daughter who is luckiest of all. I'm gonna do my best to be a good dad. And you, you're gonna be a great mom." 

"I hope so."

"I know so. Anything you put your mind to Abby, you can do. And do it well. You'll be great." 

"Great?"

"Absolutely. Not a doubt in my mind." He gives me a big a grin, and then leans forward to kiss me. 

I wish I had his confidence … about the baby, about us. He's so sure everything is going to work out perfectly. As much as I'd love to believe it, there's still a part of me that doubts. I don't know if I can get this right. But I am going to try. Because more than anything, I want this to work. After all, John and this baby are my chance at something good -- a normal life, maybe even a happy family. And as scared as I sometimes am, I know that they are the best thing that's ever happened to me. And I wouldn't want it any other way. 


	15. An Ordinary Day

__

Title: Finding A Way Home

Author: Andrea:

Rating: R 

Disclaimer: I own nothing; I have no dependents. I also don't own the William Carter, Co … but I doubt they'll sue me for not clearing it with them. Mostly because I'm sure the CEO and board of directors is not sitting around reading fanfic. But really, even if they were … who doesn't love some free publicity?

Author's Note: Thanks, COURTNEY. Thanks to everyone who reviewed. Please do that again. 

*~*~*~* 

Finding A Way Home 

Chapter 15: _An Ordinary Day _

"Oh God, can this day possibly get any worse?" I ask Susan, as I lean back heavily against the admit desk. 

It's nearly lunchtime, and I've been here for almost fifteen hours, working a night shift. Being that it's a weekend, we got slammed all night long. A steady stream of traumas that has continued all morning. Aside from a few hours of sleep, enforced by Susan, in the wee hours of the morning, I haven't had a real break. I vaguely remember eating something for breakfast several hours ago, but now I'm hungry again. Which is kinda surprising considering that I've been thrown up on three times so far in this shift. I was also peed on, spit on, and then I sat in a plate of Chinese food. I think seven scrub changes is my new personal record for one shift. I'm tired, I'm hungry, and I don't care if I'm not even six months pregnant, I swear my ankles are swollen. My back hurts. My belly itches. And Carter isn't even here for me to take it out on. But his shift is starting soon, so he should show up any minute. And for his sake, he better bring lunch. I hope he gets here soon. And not just because I'm hoping he brings food, but because I've barely seen him at all this week. 

"You need a break, huh?" Susan asks in a sympathetic tone.

"I need a massage. I need a bath. I need twenty-four hours of sleep."

"Is that it?"

"I also need to single-handedly clean out the bakery case at the grocery," I tell her, absently scratching at my stomach. 

"She kicking?" Susan asks, hand poised to move onto my belly.

I shake my head. "Nope, not right now. I think she's sleeping. Lulled by all this walking around. She seems to save the kicking for when I lie down and try to sleep or when I … oh, crap," I say, looking down the hall. 

"What?" Susan sounds confused. 

"I had to open my big mouth."

"Abby … could you just _try_ to make some sense?" 

"Just when I thought this day couldn't get any worse." 

"What?" Susan's sounding a bit frustrated with me now.

"That," I say, nodding my head in the direction I want her to look. 

"Some guy walking down the hall?"

"That's not 'some guy,' Susan."

"Well, who is it?"

"That would be Richard. My ex." 

"Ooh. What's he doing here?"

"I have no idea. And I don't really care to find out." This would be a great time to turn and run, but unfortunately Richard's already spotted me and is heading right toward me. 

"Abby. I've been looking all over for you. I figured you still worked here." Richard says, sounding annoyed that I was so rude as to not know that he was here and looking for me so that I could present myself to him and make his life that much easier. 

I plaster on a fake smile to go with my fake cheerful voice, "Well, of course, I still work here. It's not like any place else would actually take me." I turn to look at Susan and roll my eyes before turning back to Richard. "But it's nice to see you, too. How am I? I'm great, thanks for asking. How are you doing? Better yet _what _are you doing? Why are you here?" 

He gives me a long, disdainful look before answering. "My stepson. He fell off his skateboard and broke his wrist. He was over at a friend's house and the kid's parents brought him _here_." He manages to impart that word with an awful lot of disgust. 

"I'm sorry to hear that. I hope he recovers quickly." And what the hell do you want from me, by the way? 

"Yeah, well. Adam's asking for a popsicle." Richard looks at me expectantly, like he wants me to do something about this. 

"Susan … have you met Richard?" More of the fake overly-sweet voice. I'm sure Susan's just dying to be introduced to my ex-husband, but mostly I'm just doing my best to piss off Richard. From the look on his face, it seems to be working. 

Susan sticks out her hand, pastes on a fake smile very similar to mine, and God bless her, says, "Nice to meet you, Dick." 

"It's Richard," he says, snubbing her offered hand. "So Abby, about the popsicle for my kid." 

"Uh-huh," Susan starts, tucking her hand into her pocket, "I guess I have a patient to check on." She walks away, leaving me all alone with Dick. Oh, I'm gonna get her for that later. 

"I think they have popsicles in the cafeteria."

"I'm sure they do. Grape, okay?" 

I can't help but laugh at that. "I am not going to the cafeteria to fetch you a popsicle." 

"I don't know why not," Richard says, looked peeved, "You sure look like you're spending enough time there these days." 

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" I ask, although I already know what he's implying. As if it wasn't obvious to begin with, I can see how his eyes are fixed on my expanding waist underneath my scrub top.

"Well, I can see how you're letting yourself go. You're getting kinda fat there, Abby." Leave it to Richard, model of decorum and charm, to be tactful as ever. 

I drop the fake smile in favor of narrowing my eyes at him. "I'm not fat, you jackass. I'm pregnant." Well, that was fun. His mouth literally drops open, and he seems to be speechless. 

"I didn't even know you were married," he says when he recovers, and I can only assume by his righteous and smug tone that he knows perfectly well that I'm not. 

"I'm not married," I say simply. It's nothing to be ashamed of. 

"Oh. Sperm donor?" 

"What?" I can't believe he asked me that as if it's a normal question that comes up in polite conversation. "I know it's really hard to believe, Richard … but if I'm very careful, every few months I can actually save up enough money to pay some man to have sex with me." I don't think he misses the sarcasm this time. He gives me one of those condescending smirks of his. 

"So it was just a mistake then." 

Tears spring to my eyes, my hands move protectively over my belly, and I drop all pretense of being unaffected. "She's not a mistake." But I say it quietly, to myself really, as I look down at my round belly. 

"Hey, what's going on?" Suddenly Carter is there by my side, his arm slipping around my waist. 

I swallow quickly, blinking my eyes a few times. I look up at him with a smile and say, "Nothing. Richard was just _congratulating_ us on the baby." 

John looks at me skeptically, obviously sensing that it's not that simple. But he chooses to play along. Looking at Richard, he simply says, "Oh. Thanks." He reaches over and rubs my belly fondly, clearly staking his claim. 

"_You're_ the father?" Richard apparently finds that to be somewhat unbelievable. After all, Carter's not a troll. So what would he be doing with _me_?

"John Carter," Carter says, sticking out his hand. This time Richard accepts, shaking John's hand. "We met a few years ago. At the museum. My family's charity fundraiser. And I guess you were there as someone's date." I love you, Carter. Thank you for that. I don't think the dig was lost on good old Dick either. He looks mightily pissed now. 

"Well, Abby always could smell money. I guess she figured that getting herself knocked up would be a good way to make sure she gets her hands on some of yours." He turns and looks at me … looks down pointedly at my bare finger. "Too bad he didn't bite." 

It would probably be rather unseemly for a pregnant woman to beat the shit out of her ex-husband in a public place, wouldn't it? Luckily Carter seems to sense the intensity of my rage. He pats my hip lightly, reassuringly before answering Richard. 

"Oh, _I_ want to marry her. But she's just a little nervous. But I'm sure in time I'll convince her that _I'm_ not an egotistical, shallow asshole that can't be trusted. Then, hopefully, she'll want to marry me. And if you think that Abby tried to trap me with the pregnancy, that's pretty funny since the whole thing was my idea. I wanted her to have my baby because I couldn't imagine anyone else being good enough to be the mother of children. I know how lucky I am." John delivers this speech in a perfectly rational, conversational tone of voice, and of course, Richard really has no idea how to respond. 

"The cafeteria is that way," I say with a another cheery smile, pointing him in the wrong direction. He looks at me for a moment, and then follows the path of my outstretched arm. "Bye!" I call as he walks away. He mutters something under his breath that I'm better off pretending I didn't hear. 

"What was that all about?" Carter asks as soon as Richard is gone. 

"His stepson broke his wrist, and poor Richard is stuck here with the indigent masses. And to top it off, I wouldn't wait on him. He wanted me to run down the cafeteria and get a popsicle for his kid."

"Is that all? You seemed upset." 

I wave my hand in dismissal. "Just the usual."

"The usual?"

"Oh, Richard's obviously been reading _How to Win Friends and Influence People,_ again." 

"Does he have comprehension problems?" 

"Among many others." 

"Remind me again why you married him?"

"When I figure it out, you'll be the first to know. But … thank you. You were brilliant," I say, turning around to face John, wrapping my arms around his neck. 

"I just told him the truth." 

"Yes, but you did it so well." I lean up and give him a little peck on the lips. "You really put him in his place." I can't help but grin at the thought. 

"Well, you said it yourself, Abby: the man is a horse's ass." 

"A pompous jerk, too. You know what he said to me? When I told him I was pregnant, he asked if I used a sperm donor. Because, I guess, no man would look at me twice."

"Well, he's obviously stupid, in addition to all his other fine qualities." 

"And then … then he called the baby a mistake. That's why I was upset." It still stings, and I feel myself getting a little teary. I rub my growing belly and whisper quietly, "You're not a mistake." 

"Do you want me to have him killed?" Leave it to Carter to make me smile.

"Nah, death's too good for him."

"Audited?" He suggests.

"He's already been there, done that." 

"Well, there must be something we can do to him." 

"We could let the air out of his tires again. That was pretty fun." 

"You were right … we should have done at least two tires." 

"We should have done all four," I say.

"And our baby is _not _a mistake. Quite the contrary. She was meant to be. It was fate, you know." He leans over and kisses the bulge that is our baby. Putting one hand on the back of his head, I lean over and plant a kiss in his hair, the only place I can reach. 

"I love you," I whisper to him. He straightens up and smiles at me. Leans in toward me … 

"Oh, don't start here, you two," Susan admonishes us as she walks up. What? Did she really think we were gonna do it behind the admit desk? Or maybe on top? 

"Yes, Mom," I say to Susan before turning to Carter. "Did you bring lunch?" 

"Was I supposed to?" Carter asks, looking a bit worried. 

"No, I was just hoping you would. You've spoiled me by doing it so often."

"Sorry. You want me to go get you something?" 

"No, that's okay."

"Aren't you off now?" Susan asks.

"Weren't you off like three hours ago?" John asks. 

"Yes and _yes_. But the traumas kept rolling in. This is the first time this place has quieted down."

"You better get out while you can," Carter advices, knowing all too well how easy it is to get stuck in this place. "You know, maybe get some lunch, since I didn't think to bring you any." 

"Well, I'm off now," Susan says. "Why don't we go grab something to eat?" 

"I don't know. I was going to just go home and crash." Something tells me that going with Susan to get something to eat will turn into an all day project. 

"Ah, that's no fun. We had a rough night … I think we need some retail therapy."

"Shopping?" Carter asks.

"I promised myself I would get a head start on my Christmas shopping this year."

"Christmas shopping? It's not even Thanksgiving yet," I point out. 

"Hence the _head start_. So what do you say? C'mon … it'll be fun." 

"I don't know," I say, "I think I need some sleep." 

"Oh, Abby … c'mon." Susan's tugging on my sleeve and giving me a pitiful little look. "It's not as much fun shopping alone. And you know if you go home, you won't be able to sleep; you'll just lie in bed staring at the ceiling." 

"The wall," I say. 

"What?" Susan asks. 

"I'm not supposed to lie on my back. I have to lie on my side so I'd be staring at the wall." 

"Well, whatever. You know what I mean. You're too wound up from work to sleep right away. And just about the time you're ready to fall asleep, you get hungry."

"Or you have to pee." I know all about that these days. 

"So you get up and eat --"

"Or pee." 

"And by the time you get back to bed, you're staring at the wall again for hours until you finally fall asleep at 9 p.m. and then you're awake at midnight and can't sleep all night. It seems like it would be better to just stay up all day, and go to bed early." 

"Susan?" I start, "Maybe it's escaped you … but I'm pregnant. I can pretty much fall asleep any time, any place."

"I don't know, Ab," Carter says. "Susan has a point. Maybe you'd be better off just staying awake. Keeping your body on more of a schedule. Besides, I won't feel so guilty about working on a Saturday night if I know that Susan is keeping you company. "

"Well …"

"Please, Abby? Lunch will be my treat. We'll do a little shopping, but not too much. Then we can rent some videos … pop some popcorn and have a girls' night in. I'll even tuck you into bed if you get tired." 

"Okay," I finally relent, knowing that Susan will just keep pushing until I do. And she's probably right, I'm probably better off out doing something than staying at home moping … uh, resting. "But only if you promise not to try to sleep over again," I tell her. 

"What?" Carter asks, looking bewildered, probably thinking that we are a bit old for slumber parties.

"Don't worry, I won't. I don't think your bed is big enough for the three of us." 

"The three and a half of us, you mean." 

Carter gives us that look that is very familiar to me. I think of it as his 'did you really just say that?' look. "You two are very weird. You're kinda turning me on, but you're very weird."

"_We're_ weird? You're harboring some sort of kinky fantasies about me and your pregnant girlfriend, but _we_ are weird." 

"Who said anything about them being kinky?" Carter says, in a teasing tone. 

"Well, gee, that makes me feel so much better," Susan tells him, before turning to me. "Are you ready to go?" 

"Yeah, I just have to change," I tell her. "And do a couple of other things," I say, looking at Carter. 

Susan rolls her eyes at me, "Fine. I'll see you in the lounge when you get done doing _things_." She heads off to the lounge, and I grab Carter's hand, pulling him into the closest empty exam room. 

I shut the door and turn toward Carter, leaning up on my tiptoes to kiss him. I wrap my arms around his neck as his slide around my waist. When we finally pull apart, it takes me a moment to catch my breath. 

"Ah, that's better," I say. 

"I've missed you, too." 

"We have to get off these opposite shifts. It's killing me. I feel like I've barely seen you in a week." 

"I know, this sucks."

"Well, at least we have tomorrow," I say, referring to the first day off for both of us in a while.

"Actually …"

"Oh, don't even tell me that you're working." 

"Okay, I won't tell you." 

"Ahh! This _really _sucks." 

"I know, but Luka needed me to take his shift … starting tomorrow morning." 

"Luka? Again? That's like the third time this month. What the hell is he doing all the time?"

"It's probably better we don't know." 

"True. Still … why'd you have to say yes?" 

"I don't know … trying to do something nice for a friend?"

"I think I liked it better when you two hated each other." 

"We didn't hate each other, Abby. We were just … rivals."

"Rivals, huh?" 

"For your affection. You should feel special."

"Oh, I do," I tell him as his lips descend upon mine for another kiss. His hands run along my sides, and when he pulls away from the kiss, he moves his hands to rest on my belly. 

"God, I don't see you for a couple days, and you change so much. You've gotten bigger." 

"Great. First Richard calls me fat, and now you tell me how big I am." 

"You're definitely not fat, Abby. And you're really not big for five and a half months. Plenty of woman wish they would look like this at the end of the second trimester. You're not _big_ … just bigger than you were."

"And getting bigger all the time." 

"Yeah, well, that happens when you are growing a baby." He pats my ever-growing bulge and then leans over to talk to it. "Hi, princess. How're you doing in there? You're sure kicking a lot. I've missed talking to you. I hope you haven't forgotten my voice." 

"Oh, she hasn't. Believe me. Being on my feet must rock her to sleep, so I haven't been feeling too many kicks today. But then when you showed up … suddenly there was a flurry of movement. I think your voice woke her up." 

"Really?" He asks, straightening up, but leaving one hand roaming causally over my belly.

"Yeah. And when you talk to her like that she always kicks. Good, strong kicks."

"She knows her daddy," he says with pride and excitement. 

"Yeah, she does," I tell him, giving him a big smile, glad to see him so happy. 

"So … girls' night, huh?" 

"Yeah, it's not like I've got anything better to do. And now I don't even have to rest up for our day off. I can just spend all day in bed tomorrow since I won't have anything better to do then, either." 

"I'm sorry." 

"Me too." 

"I'll come over tonight, when I'm done working."

"What? At 2 a.m.? I'll be sound asleep." 

"At least we'll be together." 

"And you'll have to turn around and come back here practically right away. You're probably better off just staying here and crashing in the on-call room."

"I'd rather come home. I'd rather we're together for a few short hours than not at all. Even if we are sleeping." 

"Me too," I admit with a little smile. "So I'll see you later then?"

"Yeah."

"I should probably go meet Susan. You should probably get to work." 

"Yeah." 

But neither of us makes a move to leave. At least, not until the door comes flying open.

"Some time today, Abby, okay?" Susan asks. "And Carter, there's an MVA rolling up. If I were you, I'd get out there. Weaver seems to be looking for any excuse to put that crutch of hers to good use."

"Thanks for the warning," he says to Susan. Then he leans down and gives me a quick peck on the cheek. "I'll see you later. Have fun." 

"Bye," I say distractedly, watching him walk out the door, contemplating something that he said. 

"Earth to Abby," Susan is saying in my ear, bringing my thoughts away from my conversation with Carter. "Here, I brought your clothes and your coat … so how about you get changed so we can go?" 

"Okay," I agree as I start getting changed. "Wait a minute … how did you get into my locker?" 

"Oh, everybody has the combination to your locker," she says, as she walks out the door. 

"What? Hey, wait … Susan!" I yank on my clothes, grab my coat, and head out the door to catch up with her.

******

"He did what?" Susan asks, as we wander around the girls' section looking for Christmas gifts for her niece.

"He … sort of asked me to marry him … again." 

"And this happened weeks ago and you're only telling me now? I mean, he proposed for God's sake, I think that's newsworthy." 

"Well, no … it wasn't a proposal. It was more like … a discussion." 

"A discussion?" 

"Yeah." 

"And what did you discuss?" 

"Basically that he wants to marry me, but I'm not ready." 

"You're not ready?" I shake my head slightly. "You're nuts, you know that?"

"Way to be supportive, Susan. I really appreciate it." 

"What do you think about this for Susie?" Susan asks, holding up a pink sweatshirt with a kitten on the front of it. 

"Is she four?" I ask. 

Susan looks at the item again. "Okay, you're right. Maybe that is a bit too kindergarten. It's just … I have trouble picturing my little Susie in something like this," she says, holding up a hot pink, glittery shirt with sleeves that flare out. 

"Oh, now that's cute," I tell her. "That and some funky jeans, and Susie'll be the hit of the playground." 

"You don't think it looks too grown up for her?" 

"Well, I don't know her … but I think this is what kids are wearing."

"God, they grow up way too fast. Don't let any of it just pass you by. She's gonna be all grown up before you know it." 

"Who? Susie?" 

"No, whoever's in there," she says, poking my belly. "Of course, if you want to call her Susie …"

"Carter wants to call her Millicent." 

"Oh, God."

"Yeah, I'd sooner name her Princess."

"Oh, well … that's catchy. Princess Carter." 

"It's what he calls her all the time … princess." 

"Cute. But he really wants to name her Millicent? I mean, I know it's after his grandmother, but still … Is that why you don't want to marry him?" She asks with a chuckle. 

"I never said I didn't want to marry him. I just said I wasn't ready." 

"You love him, right?" I nod and smile. "And he loves you. And this is his," she says, putting her hands around my belly. "So what's the problem?" 

"I just don't want to rush into anything that we may regret later." 

"You really think you would end up regretting getting married?" 

"I regret getting married the first time." 

"Yeah, but this is Carter. Whatever mistakes he may have made with you in the past … I think he's learned from them. And I'm sure you've learned a lot since your first marriage. You're older and wiser now. And you and Carter have already been through so much. I don't think there's anything that could ever really keep you two apart. Sooner or later, you always end up back together, right?" 

"Yeah."

"And that's what you want, right?" 

"Yeah." It's what I want. It's what I've always wanted. But that's why it's so scary. What if I let myself believe again … and then … I don't know if I could take that disappoint … that hurt again. 

"So then what's there to regret? I don't think you'd ever be sorry."

"No, I don't think I would either."

"So then … why not marry him?" 

I turn away from her, toward a rack full of little girls' sweaters. "Look, isn't this one cute?" I say, holding one out for Susan's inspection. 

"Adorable. Now answer my question. You said the only reason not to marry him is because you don't want do something you'll regret later, but you don't think you'll regret it … so why not go for it?" 

"I don't think _I'll _regret it. But I don't want him to regret it, either."

"He won't. Why would he? Abby, I think it's all he's ever wanted." 

"But what if he's doing this for the wrong reasons? Because he thinks he should?" 

"That's not what's going on. I'm sure he wants to do right by the baby. But he could do that without marrying you. If he says he wants to get married, I'm sure it's because he wants to be married to you, not because he thinks he's obligated." 

"Yeah … but …"

"What?"

"Well … even if he does want to marry me …"

"And he does."

"What if he changes his mind? You know, after the baby comes. And then it's too late. We're already married, and he's in too deep. Trapped."

Susan knits her brow together and gives me a strange look. "Why would he change his mind after the baby's born?" She asks, sounding confused. 

"Because he has all these expectations … he thinks I'm going to be this perfect mother. What if I disappoint him? What if I can't live up to his expectations again? I'm not sure I can be the mother he wants me to be. I'm not sure I can be a mother at all." 

And there it is. The crux of the whole thing. I'm still not sure that I can do this --that I should do this-- whole motherhood thing. And marrying Carter means promising not only that I'll be his wife, but that _we'll_ be a family. And that makes me the mommy. I know what kind of mother John wants his kids to have, and while he seems to think that I can be that person, I'm still not so sure. And if I can't … then I want there to be an out … for both of us. I know what it is to be stuck in a bad marriage, and I don't ever want that to happen to us. 

"Abby," Susan is saying, "I know how you feel. Because I used to feel the same way. I was too wrapped up in my career. My family was too screwed up. I never had any kind of decent role model. I thought I wouldn't be good enough mother. And then Susie fell into my life. I got tossed into motherhood without warning and it was sort of sink or swim. And at first I didn't think I could do it. I'd already fallen madly in love with her, but I almost gave her up because I thought she'd be better off." 

I'm nodding slightly, understanding that last statement all too well. I already love this baby so much that I'd be willing to do anything, give up anything, just to ensure her well being. I rub my belly gently, feeling her thumping around inside of me. I try to enjoy having her with me while I can. Now while it's still easy and uncomplicated. Because the day is fast approaching when I'll have to make the hard decisions. Right now, knowing what's best for her isn't a problem. I just have to keep myself healthy and fit, and I know I'm giving her everything she needs. And right now, I'm the only person who can give her what she needs, but once she's born … how do I know I'll be the best person to take care of her?

"But the thing is," Susan continues, "In the end, I just couldn't do it. I loved her too much to let her go, you know? Was it selfish? I don't know. Maybe. But how did I know she would be better of without me? At least if she was with _me_ I could control what kind of mother she got. And I realized that if it was important enough to me, I could be a good mother. It's just like anything else … if you're willing to put the effort into it, you can be good at it. Not that you won't ever make mistakes … but no one's perfect. If you just make a conscious effort to do your best … well, that's usually more than good enough. And Abby … I've seen you with kids. You've got the instincts … and that will make it that much easier for you. You're gonna be fine. You're gonna be great." 

"You sound like Carter," I tell her with a little smile. Tears have appeared in the corners my eyes during this conversation, and while I'm sure Susan noticed, she's nice enough not to point it out. I turn away from her, sniffling a bit, swiping at my eyes. 

"Well, you should listen to us. We're smart. And speaking of taking my advice … I think I know just what you need. C'mon."

She leads me across the aisle from the girls' section. "The baby department?" I ask.

"Yeah. I guarantee you this will cheer you up. I mean, it's all just so cute. These tiny little clothes. Spend enough time in here, and you won't be able to wait for her to be born because you'll be all excited to dress her up in these adorable little outfits. And maybe you can forget about what's worrying you and concentrate on something more …" 

"Shallow and superficial?" 

"I was thinking more along the lines of 'uplifting and cheerful,' but whatever. I mean, just look at this … oh my God, it's so cute. Oh, I want one."

"A fuzzy pink sleeper with a bunny on it?" I ask. 

"No, a baby to put in the fuzzy pink sleeper with the bunny on it. I especially like the bunny." 

"Oh. You should have some."

"Bunnies?"

"Babies."

"Well, someday maybe. But I already told you, right now I have to concentrate on spoiling your baby." She drapes the little pajamas over my protruding stomach. "That's nice. It's her color." I roll my eyes at her. "Oh, you're gonna look so adorable in this." 

I pick up the tag and inspect it. "0-3 months? I don't think it's gonna fit me, Susan." 

"I was talking to the baby. Aunt Susie's gonna buy this for her. Her very first gift."

"You don't have to do that, Susan." 

"Of course I don't. I want to. I'll wrap it up and give it to her for Christmas if it makes you feel better." 

"Oh God, don't do that. You'll give Carter ideas."

"Like he hasn't already bought her a closet full of clothes." 

"I don't know. I don't think so. If he has, he hasn't told me about it." 

"You haven't bought anything yet?" 

"Nah, it's still too early." 

"Early? You're almost six months pregnant."

"Yeah, so there's still three months to go." 

"And you really want to be waddling around at nine-months pregnant buying baby clothes? " I shrug. I guess I hadn't really given it that much thought. "Or were you just planning to go out with your naked baby to buy everything after she's born?" 

"You know, there are some religions where you aren't supposed to bring anything for the baby into the house before it's born because it's considered bad luck." 

"So now you're superstitious?" 

"No … just …" 

"Oh my God. Abby, look at this." She holds out another tiny outfit for me to inspect. Pink again, but this time a little dress made out of that velvety velour material that seems to be very popular for baby clothes. And embroidered on the front, just under the little collar, in a darker shade of pink is the word 'princess.' 

I can't help but smile as I reach out to touch the soft material, running my finger over the embroidered letters. "Princess. How perfect. Carter would love it. And look at this … it's made by none other than Carter's. It's literally got his name written all over it." 

"You mean like the brand name, 'Carter's?'"

"None other."

"It _is_ perfect. You have to get it for him." 

"Pink's really not my favorite color on him. It makes him look a little pale." Susan rolls her eyes at me. "But I'm sure he would love to have a little princess dress for his little princess. Although this one's too big . It needs to be something she can wear right away before the weather gets too warm," I say, hanging it back on the rack and reaching down to find an even smaller version. "I don't get it, though." 

"Get what?"

"Well, it's made out of a heavy material that seems like it would be nice and warm for winter."

"Right, that's why you wanted the smallest one. So she can wear it while it's still cold out." 

"Yeah, but what I don't get is … it's kind of a short dress with just little … bloomer things to go under it."

"So?"

"So her legs will get cold." 

"That's what tights are for, Ab."

"Tights? For a baby? Let's just get her some panty hose and high heels while we're at it." 

"I'm talking about cute little pink tights, not fishnet stockings. I'm sure they have some around here," she says, peering around the baby department. 

"Look at this one," I say, laughing. I hate to admit it, but this is kinda fun. "Oh my God, there's, like, a whole collection of this princess-wear. Oh, I like this one." It's little pants and a long-sleeve shirt in a darker shade of pink, made out of a very soft cotton. It, too, has the word 'princess' embroidered on the front, and underneath that is some sort of cute little … animal. "Is this a giraffe?" I ask Susan.

"Since when do giraffes have wings?" 

"Good point. Maybe it's a Pegasus?"

"No, it doesn't have the right kind of tail. Oh, I think it's a dragon." 

"A pink dragon?" 

"Abby? Dragons … are just make-believe," she says, like she's imparting some great wisdom. "So I guess they can be any color you want them to be." 

"I guess. It's cute, though, isn't it?" She nods in agreement. "But now I have a problem."

"A problem?" 

"Yeah, I don't know which one to get. I really like this one. It's so soft, it seems like it would be comfortable. It's what I'd want to wear if I were a baby. And it's the kind of thing I would chose to put her in. You know, it's pink and looks like girls' clothes. But it's not too frilly … it's kinda funky, actually." 

"So what's the problem?" 

"Well," I say, holding up the lighter-pink dress, "This is what Carter would want. Baby girl pink … more traditional, more girly … So I don't know which one to get."

"Let me be the first to break the news to you. Carter … is loaded. I don't think he's going to care if you come home with two …" She picks up the tags and consults them, "Twenty dollar baby outfits. Carter wouldn't care if you bought one of everything in this store if it made you happy. And I do think that the baby might need more than _one_ outfit. Babies aren't always the cleanest things in the world, you know." 

"Yeah, but does she really need two outfits that say 'Princess?'"

"Well, they don't look anything alike, just because they are from the same _collection_." Is she making fun of me? What else would you call a bunch of clothes that are all different but have the same theme? "So yes. Yes, she does need them both. Also, I think she need this 'Princess' bib because it has a little princess embroidered on it," she says, pointing out the little princess on the bib for me. "And these little matching socks, too. And here are those tights to go with the dress. Oh, and shoes. Look at these with the little pink bows on them."

"You're completely out of control," I tell her, laughing, as she piles these things in my arms. "She does not need shoes. What does a newborn need shoes for?"

"Too keep her feet warm?" I give her a look. "Okay, because they're cute." 

"This baby is gonna be dressed better than I am. And I am so going to get you back for this when it's your turn."

"I can live with that," she says, finding a new rack of miniscule clothing to peruse. We spend quite a while 'awing' our way through the baby department, holding up various items for closer inspection, Susan trying out her favorites on my belly. By the time we straggle to the register, I'm about shopped out. 

"Can we go home now? Please?" I ask. 

"One more quick stop," Susan says. "And then I promise, we'll get you right home." 

Uh-huh. Sure. Famous last words. 

******

"I can't believe he asked you if you used a sperm donor," Susan says, after I give her the details of my encounter with Richard. 

"Well, that's Richard for you. He pretty much personifies the word 'asshole.'"

"I'm glad your taste in men has improved." We're sitting on my couch, big bowl of popcorn in between us, pretending to watch a movie, but mostly just chatting. 

"Yeah, I did okay with Carter." 

"And Luka's not so bad."

I pop some popcorn in my mouth and give Susan a thoughtful, but amused look. "Luka, huh?"

"What? He's cute."

"Yeah."

"And … he's a good guy. He doesn't seem like nearly as much of an asshole as your ex-husband."

"Well, he's not. I mean, he's not an asshole at all. But he certainly could never be as much of one as my ex. Because Richard is not just _an_ asshole. He's like … _The_ asshole."

"Maybe you should just start referring to him as The Asshole from now on." 

"Actually, I thought 'Dick' was appropriate. By the way, I wanted to thank you for that. You and Carter really made my day." 

"Carter? Did he take a shot at Dick, too?" 

"Yep. And then he said …" I stop in mid-sentence and listen carefully. "Do you hear that?"

"What?" I mute the TV. 

"It sounds like some is outside my door." 

"Expecting company?" 

"No."

"Delivery guy?"

"We didn't order anything."

"Serial killer?" 

"Fumbling with the locks?" I ask, noting the door handle moving. 

"Oh, it's probably just Carter. Hey, Car--" Susan starts to yell. 

"Shh!" 

"What? You wanna pretend we're not here and jump up and yell 'boo!' when he comes in?"

"It's not Carter … he's stuck at work."

"Well, who else has a key?" 

"No one."

"Luka?"

"Luka!? Why would Luka still have a key? No. Now can we get off Luka and worry about who's trying to break in?" I whisper. 

"Break in? Abby, for God's sake, I'll just go see who's there."

"See who's there? What if it _is_ a serial killer?"

"It's probably one of your neighbors, drunk, trying to get in the wrong apartment."

"Drunk? It's like 7 p.m." 

"Well, some people start early." She starts toward the door but before she can get there it opens up and in walks John. "See? I told you it was Carter. Abby thought you were a serial killer … she thought we should arm ourselves before opening the door." 

Carter looks over at me, standing next to the couch, with a death grip on a pillow, holding it protectively over my belly. "What were you planning to do, smother me to death?" 

"Well … not _you_," I say.

"Right, the serial killer. That's it … no more scary movies for you two. What are you watching?"

"The Parent Trap." He raises his eyebrows at me. "Well, I was too tired to go rent anything and this was the only thing on at 7 o'clock on a Saturday. " 

"Oh. Old one or new one?" He asks. Do I want to know how he would know that there _is_ an old and a new one? 

"Old. Susan seems to have some sort of sentimental attachment to this movie." 

"Well, it's a classic," Carter says.

"See? I told you that, too," Susan tells me. I stick my tongue out at her. 

Carter takes his coat off, tosses it over a chair, and then kisses my cheek on the way to sit down on the couch. 

"What are you doing here?" I ask, still standing in the middle of the room. 

"I told you I was coming over."

"Yeah, at like 2 a.m." 

"Am I interrupting something? Do you want me to leave and come back? Because I was kinda looking forward to crashing girls' night … I always wondered what you girls do." 

"You're looking at it," Susan says, grabbing more popcorn. 

"You eat?" John asks.

"Pretty much," Susan says. 

"Are you gonna just stand there or are you gonna come sit down?" He asks me, patting the couch next to him. So I sit down next to him, and he wraps his arms around me immediately. I lean back against him. 

"I don't understand why you're here," I say. 

"It probably wouldn't be appropriate for me to say with Susan in the room." Of course, Susan just glances over at us and makes a face, then turns back to the movie. 

"No. I mean, why aren't you at work?" 

"I missed you."

"Last time I checked, that wasn't a good enough excuse to leave." 

"No … so that's why I called Luka and guilt-tripped him into covering the second half of my shift." 

"Very nicely done," I tell him. 

"I thought so. I just couldn't stand the thought of going however many more days without spending any quality time with you."

"I know the feeling," I say, leaning my head back and turning to look at him. He bends his head down and kisses me lightly. 

"So how was the shopping?" He asks when he pulls his lips away from mine. 

"Good," I tell him, lazily, more interested in snuggling against his chest. 

"Show him what you got," Susan says, whacking me on the leg with the back of her hand, never taking her eyes off the TV. 

"Yeah, show me what you got," Carter says. 

"Susan," I say in singsong voice, jostling her with my foot. 

"Hmm?" 

"Will you go get the bag? Please?" She turns and looks at us. I give her a smile. 

"Okay. But only because you two look so cute all cuddled up over there. And because it's a commercial." She goes to the bedroom and returns with the shopping bag, handing me the wrapped box.

"This is for you," I tell John. "Susan made me wrap it." I shake my head at the silliness of it all. 

"Oh! A present!" 

"I told you his face would light up like a little kid's," Susan says, plopping back down on the couch. 

John's already ripping off the paper and opening the box. "Oh," he says with a happy chuckle, pulling the little pink dress out of the box, "It's so cute. 'Princess.'"

"Do you like it?" I ask.

"Of course. It's perfect." 

"We knew you'd love it." 

"I do. But … I don't think it's gonna fit me."

"It's not your color." Susan and I say in unison. 

Carter looks back and forth between us. "That was kinda scary." 

"Not as scary as you making the same joke as Abby did this afternoon." 

He knits his brow together. "About the baby's clothes not fitting you," I explain. "So do you really love it?" 

"Absolutely. It's perfect for our little princess. She'll be just gorgeous. Just like her mom."

I rearrange myself so that I'm sitting on his lap, straddling it, really. "I'm glad you like it," I say, leaning forward to give him a quick kiss, "Because there's more where that came from. I just didn't want to wrap it all up." 

"Uh-oh, how worried should I be?" But of course, he doesn't sound the least bit worried at all. 

"It's not bad. Just the one bag." 

"Did you have fun? Picking out clothes for her?" He rubs my back slowly before settling on the small of my back and massaging it lightly. Just what I needed.

"Yeah. Susan made me do it, but in the end it was fun." I glance over at Susan, but she doesn't seem to be paying much attention to us. Boy, she must really love this movie. 

I lean forward and kiss John again, this time a more lingering, passionate kiss. I'm planting a little trail of kisses along his neck and running my hands up his chest.

"Ahem," I hear Susan clearing her throat. "Not that I don't appreciate the free show, but I just wanted to remind you that I haven't left yet." 

"Well, not to be rude," I say, "But you either need to go home … or join in." 

She looks at us for a moment, as if considering. "Well, it is kind of cold outside …"

"I really don't want to know what goes on with you two when I'm not around, do I?" Carter asks. "Or then again, maybe I do." 

"Are you really going to kick me out in the middle of the movie?" Susan asks, ignoring Carter. 

"They're gonna get back together. There, now you know how it ends. The same way it always does."

"Abby," John says, "Maybe we should just watch the movie. When was the last time we all hung out together? It's been a while." 

"Carter, I was just kidding. I'm gonna go. I don't want you keep you guys from your … other activities." 

"No, stay," I say. "C'mon … we'll watch the movie … I'll kick both of your asses at Scrabble … if I can stay awake that long. It'll be fun."

"Yeah, but you guys have been waiting all week to have some time alone together. I don't want to get in the way of that." 

"Well, you know … there is more to our relationship than just sex," I tell Susan. 

"There is?" Carter says in an exaggerated surprised tone. 

"Shut up," I tell him, good-naturedly, before turning back to Susan. "We are capable of doing other things when we're together. So please stay. It'll be fun."

"Yeah, c'mon, Susan … stay," Carter says, " I want to watch this, anyway … it's been forever since I've seen it. And we have to get used to watching all these family movies now, you know. And ever since I got that word-of-the-day calendar, I've just been waiting for a chance to unleash some of my new vocabulary on the Scrabble board."

"Well …" 

"Don't make me tie you up …" I say, and then, with a glance at Carter, "… again." He just shakes his head at me. 

"Well, if you're sure." 

"Of course, we're sure," I tell her. "We're gonna kick you out in a couple of hours, but we're sure."

"Okay, then. I'll even make the next batch of popcorn," she says, getting up and heading out to the kitchen. 

"That was nice of you," I say quietly to John. 

"You're not mad?"

"No, of course not. It's Susan. And I think we owe her a couple," I tell him, patting my belly. 

"More than a couple, I think." 

"Yeah … and besides, we'll have some time later."

"Yeah, who needs sleep, anyway?" 

For once, a sleepless night that I think I can look forward to. I snuggle up against John's chest, with his arms wrapped around me. It feels good to be this close to him. I've missed these quiet moments when we don't need to talk, when we're not doing anything but just keeping each other close. Susan returns with the popcorn and smiles over at us. And I laugh quietly to myself, thinking how it's pretty amazing that such an ordinary day, even one that started off rather unpleasant, can turn out to be something so wonderful.


	16. Show Me Your Stuff

Title: Finding A Way Home

Author: Andrea

Rating: R

Summary: Well, this may be hard to believe, but Abby and Carter are having a baby. When last we saw our favorite couple, they were cuddled up on the couch and Susan was making more popcorn. If you need more of a reminder than that, go back and read chapter 15 again.

Author's Note: It's back. Finally. I've been waiting to post this chapter in the hopes that I would have something else in the works by the time this one went up. And I have started to work on a couple other things lately, so hopefully I will have something else to post soon. In the meantime, I hope this holds you over. Big thanks to BETH … and to LISA who loves this chapter beyond reason. So did Wells get back to you yet, Lise? Just wondering. Thanks to everyone else for all the reviews. Please do that again. Seriously … if you want to read more chapters of … anything … a little inspiration would go a long way. Or so I hope. I also hope you enjoy this. Let me know.

* * *

****

**Chapter 16: Show Me Your Stuff**

"Well, that was fun," I say, closing the door after seeing Susan out.

"You only think so because you won," Carter says.

"Won? I mopped the floor with you two."

"Yes, Abby, your Uno skills are completely unrivaled. You should be proud."

"Oh, I am."

"Next time it is definitely going to be Scrabble."

"So you can try to impress me with your big vocabulary?" I ask, taking his hands and leading him over to the couch.

"That wasn't exactly how I was hoping to impress you," he says as he sits down. I'm standing in front him, his hands in mine, and before I can sit down he leans forward to kiss the belly which just happens to be at the perfect height. "So c'mon … show me your stuff."

I can't help but laugh at that. "You could at least buy me dinner first," I say, resurrecting one of his old jokes.

He shakes his head, but chuckles at me. "Abby. That's not what I meant, you know that."

"So you don't want me to show you my … stuff?" I ask in an accusatory tone, pretending to be offended.

"Is this a trick question?" He looks around, seeming somewhat bewildered, probably thinking that he's a victim of my current state of heightened sensitivity.

"Just answer the question." I drop his hands in favor of putting my hands on my hips and giving him a look.

"Uh, well, what I meant was …" he starts slowly, in a careful tone of voice, "I'd love to see the _stuff_ you got for the baby now … maybe you can show me _your_ stuff later." I just look at him. "Maybe? If I'm good?"

"I thought you were always good," I say, giving him a sly smile.

"Well … wait … so you're not really mad?" He looks up at me in surprise as light dawns. I shake my head, and lean down to kiss the tip of his nose. "So … did I just get punk'd?" He asks, watching me move across the room to retrieve the bag of baby clothes.

"I think that requires something slightly more elaborate. And you really need to stop watching so much MTV. That's what you did all night while I was slaving away at work, huh? Just sat around watching MTV?"

"Well, not _just _MTV. Nick at Nite, too." I give him raised eyebrows on that one, as I sit down next to him. "Hey, all those family shows are on. I figured it would be a good way to pick up some parenting pointers."

"If you think television is the place to learn your parenting skills, this kid is in more trouble than I thought."

"What do you mean? _Full House _was on and that Uncle Jesse is just full of great advice. Plus, he has great hair."

"Okay, this conversation has just gone from weird to truly terrifying."

"Just show me what you've got," he says, gesturing toward the bag at my feet.

"Didn't we just go through this … I'm not gonna just show you my stuff."

"The baby stuff," he says dryly.

"Ohh … the _baby_ stuff. Right."

He's chuckling at me and doing that slight headshake that shows his bemusement. "You think you're so cute."

"I am so cute," I inform him. "And so is this stuff. You know, Susan dragged me kicking and screaming into the baby department."

"Kicking and screaming? I kinda wish I'd been there to see that."

"But anyway, it turns out she was right … these little clothes are so adorable. There's no way you can be bummed out when you are surrounded by all this tiny, pink stuff," I say, pulling out the bunny sleeper that Susan picked out. "I mean, look at this. How cute is this? Auntie Susan picked it out, didn't she?" I coo, bending my head to talk to the baby.

"It's very cute." But there's a seriousness in his voice that makes me look up at him.

"What?" I thought he was all excited to see my purchases, but now his mood seems to have undergone a shift.

"What were you bummed out about?"

"What?"

"You said that Susan was right, you can't be bummed out in the baby department."

"I said that?"

"Yeah, you did. Wanna talk about it?" He asks, picking up my hand and playing idly with my fingers.

I shrug. "It was nothing. Just … jitters, I guess."

"Jitters? Abby, you're gonna be great, you know that right?"

I shrug again. "I know you believe that, but I'm not so sure."

"Abby, we've been over this. Of course it's scary, but you're gonna be an amazing mom. You really are. Everyone gets scared. But then the baby gets here, and you just take it one day at a time. And everything turns out fine."

"But what if it doesn't turn out fine?" I look at him through the tears in my eyes, knowing in my head that he's probably right, but worrying in my heart that he isn't.

"Come here," he says, pulling me onto his lap. I lay my head on his shoulder, and he smoothes my hair back from my face. "Tell me what you're scared of."

"That I'm gonna mess her up."

"Well … that's pretty broad."

"My mom chased me around the house with a butcher knife and disappeared in the middle of the night on a regular basis." It sounds like a non sequitur, but my mother's behavior as I was growing up definitely weighs heavily on my mind.

"And you're worried that you might repeat Maggie's mistakes?"

"Well, no. Not exactly. I mean, I don't really worry that I'll threaten the baby with cutlery, but … you know, what do I know about being a mother?"

"Well, what do I know about being a father? My mom and dad weren't exactly stellar examples of great parenting."

"Yeah," I agree, running my hand over his chest, "But at least you had your grandparents. And someone did something right … look how well you turned out."

"Well, you didn't turn out so badly yourself. And since you practically raised yourself … and your brother … well, I think you know more about being a mom than you realize."

I sigh, nuzzling my head up against his neck. "There's just so much that could go wrong."

"Yeah. And something … someday … _will_ go wrong. And when that happens … we'll deal with it. Together. There's no point in worrying about it now, though, because there's no way we can anticipate what problems are gonna crop up."

"I just wish there was some way that I could feel prepared."

"Oh, Abby … every first time parent feels that way. I know that your concerns go a little deeper than the average first time mother's … but every expectant parent feels this way. Really. It's perfectly normal."

"I know, but …"

"It'll get easier once she's here. We'll be too damn busy to worry all the time."

"Susan says that if I work hard enough at it, I can be a good mother."

"Well, listen to Susan. She's smart."

"She says she felt the same way that I do. And then her niece came along, and she found out the hard way that she could do it."

"See? It'll be the same way with you. Once she's born …"

"I wish she was already born."

"Getting tired of being pregnant?"

"No. It's just that everyone keeps saying how much easier it'll be once she's here. And I'm … you know, anxious to see her."

"Me too."

"Although, I do like being pregnant. So far. At least once I got past the whole morning sickness thing."

"What's it feel like?"

"What? Morning sickness?"

"No," he says with a laugh. "Being pregnant."

"Being pregnant?" I ask, not knowing quite how to explain it.

"Yeah."

"I don't know. It's … good. Weird. There's a little person floating around in there. Inside of me. It's bizarre. But pretty cool. Kinda scary since, you know, my body is completely out of control. It's just growing in all sorts of crazy ways. It's a little disconcerting. Like being in puberty all over again … only everything's happening a lot faster. But it's good, being pregnant. Knowing I'm growing a baby."

"Our baby."

"Yeah."

"You're lucky -- you get to be the one to feel our baby kicking around inside of you."

"Yeah, now _that's_ pretty neat. Strange. Different. But I like it. And I'm already so used to it that it'll be hard to get used to not feeling it anymore after she's born."

"I wish I could feel it, too."

"Sorry," I tell him. "But this is the best I can do." I take his hand and move it to my belly.

"Wow, she's really kicking up a storm in there, isn't she?"

"Of course she is. Her daddy's close by. I told you, she hears your voice, and she goes crazy."

"She can't really recognize my voice, can she?"

I shrug, and smile up at him. "Well, she doesn't do somersaults for anyone else."

"Somersaults, huh?" He pushes my shirt up, exposing my belly so that his hand can roam over my bare flesh. "Oh, that was a good one," he says, feeling a big kick.

"She's glad you're here." I tell him, reaching up to slide a hand along his cheek. "And so is her mommy."

"I love it when you talk like that," he tells me, shifting me on his lap so that I'm no longer leaning against his chest. I wonder why he's essentially pushing me away, forcing me into a semi-reclining position across his lap, until he drops his head down to my belly, planting a kiss on my bare skin.

"When I talk like what? When I say how much we miss you?"

"When you call yourself 'Mommy.' I like that 'we' stuff, too. Makes it all seem so much more real."

"This doesn't seem real to you?" I ask, massaging my bulge, and feeling the kicks from the baby inside. "I don't know how it could possibly get any more real."

"Mmm … well, she could be here." He nuzzles his head against my skin, finally laying his cheek gently to rest on my stomach. He sighs happily, closing his eyes as a smile spreads across his face. He's already completely head-over-heels for his little girl.

"You know, I would gladly leave you two alone … only I can't," I tell him.

He opens his eyes and looks at me appraisingly for a moment. Then he turns his head so that he's gazing at the belly again. "Aww, I think Mommy's feeling a bit jealous. Or maybe just a little neglected."

"Not really," I say, putting my hand on his head and running my fingers through his hair. "I don't care if you spend all night cooing at the baby. I'm just glad you're here."

"Me too. I'm really glad I came home."

Home. That's the second time today he's said that. I lean my head down so I can look him in the eye. He notices me leaning over and looks up, meeting my gaze. "You did it again."

"Did what again?" he asks, straightening up.

"Called this place -- my crappy little apartment … home. Do you really think of this as home?" I wrap my arms loosely around his neck and study him intently.

"Abby … anywhere that you are is home to me."

"Really?"

"Well, home is where the heart is, right? And you have my heart, so I guess you'll always be home to me. Besides, home is supposed to be a place where you feel safe … and comfortable."

"So now I'm safe and comfortable?" I ask.

"It's not a bad thing."

"I don't know. Sounds a lot like 'boring' to me."

"Absolutely not. God, Abby. You could never be boring. You're my tornado. You know I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Well, good. But only if you mean it. Otherwise, we'll just have to find away to spice things up a bit."

"Spice things up?" he asks with interest. "Well …"

"So you do think I'm boring."

"Abby … no. I don't. But who would ever turn down making things a bit more spicy? Especially considering that you'd be the one coming up with the spice." He brings his face toward mine, capturing my lips in a soft, but sensuous, kiss. "There's no one in the world more ingenious and … imaginative than you. Or more amazing."

"Whatever," I say lightly, with a little chuckle, figuring he's just doing a little random ass-kissing to make sure things go smoothly this evening.

"You are amazing, Abby. I wish you could see it. It's why I have no doubts that you're gonna be a great mom. You're smart." He plants a little kiss on my lips. "You're funny." He kisses my cheek. "You're sweet. And caring. And nurturing." Each attribute that he lists is punctuated with a kiss to my neck. "You are exactly who I always wanted … who I was always looking for … to be my children's mother."

I know that in addition to trying to reassure me and ease my doubts, he means every word he says. His sentimental streak is showing through. Not being quite so comfortable with the sentimentalism, of course I find a way to turn it into a joke. "I think someone is trying to make sure he's gonna get lucky tonight."

"No, not at all."

"Not at all? Are you saying you don't want to get lucky tonight?

"Of course not."

"Of course not? Are you ill?"

"No, I meant, of course I'm not saying that I don't want to get lucky."

"So you do?" I ask, just to clarify.

"Of course. I just didn't think that it was ever really in question."

"Well, that's good to know."

"Why? Were you worried?"

"Yeah. After all, _I _was hoping to get lucky tonight. And I always worry that one of these days … well, you know …"

"What?" He seems genuinely confused.

I look down at my round belly where one of his hands still rests. "I'm getting bigger all the time. How do I know that one of these days I'm not gonna just start disgusting you?"

"That could never happen Abby. You're beautiful pregnant. You know that, right? I mean, you're having my baby and that's a beautiful thing. But aside from that, you're just darn cute all round and curvy. And no matter how big and round you get, that's not gonna change the way I feel about you. It's certainly not gonna make me want you any less."

"Sure, you say that now …"

"I'll be saying it then, too."

"Unless I get boring on you," I say with a grin to let him know I'm joking.

"That could never happen."

"Well, it _could._ But we won't let it. We'll just have to find a way to keep things interesting." I lean forward and capture his lips, slipping my tongue into his eagerly waiting mouth. "I guess I might be forced to show you my wild side," I say when we break out of the lip-lock.

"You mean I haven't already seen it?"

"Not even close."

"Okay, I'm a little scared now."

"You should be," I say as I attack his neck, kissing, nibbling and sucking at his flesh.

"So Abby," he starts in a conversation tone, "did you want to show me the stuff you got for the baby?"

"Later," I mumble. I'm a little distracted at the moment. I'd say I'm about halfway to giving him a really nice hickey. I'd be a little worried that maybe he's really not interested in me anymore, what with him bringing up baby clothes at a time like this, but the way he's enthusiastically massaging my butt suggests that he has at least some fleeting interest.

"How about a snack?" he asks with a chuckle.

"Not now." What's wrong with him?

"Boy, you must really want me bad." Oh, so he was just teasing me.

"What makes you say that?" I ask in a fake indignant tone of voice as I pull myself away from him, settling a little further back on his legs so that I can give him a look.

"Well, aside from the fact that you never turn down food these days --"

"I can't help that. It's all your daughter's fault."

"Well, it's not just that."

"What else?"

"Hmm … well, I would say the fact that you've managed to unbuttoned your own shirt while nibbling on my ear was a bit of a clue."

"Oh …" I look down. Huh. My shirt _is_ unbuttoned. Now how did that happen? As I'm looking down at my exposed body, Carter's hands manage to find their way back to my stomach. He lovingly caresses the bump, staring intently at it, not seeming to notice anything else. My God, I've lost him already. I slip a finger under his chin, forcing him to tear himself away from my belly. He brings his eyes up to meet mine. "Is she all you can think about … Daddy?"

"Sorry," he says, giving me a sheepish smile. His gaze slips away from my face and travels downward, coming to rest on my swollen breasts barely contained in the lacy bra I'm wearing. One of his hands travels up from my abdomen to the plastic fastener in between the white lace cups. "This opens in the front, huh? Nice."

He deftly pops open the clasp with one hand, freeing me from my constraints. Well, good. Now I have his attention. Or at least my boobs do. Not that I can really blame him since they are pretty much right in his face now. He pushes the lacy material off to the sides, replacing it with his own hands. I lean forward to capture his lips in a kiss once again. Our tongues tangle for a moment before he acquiesces and lets me have my way.

"Abby …" He's somewhat breathless as we pull away from the kiss. "Do you wanna …"

"Of course I wanna. Why else would I be straddling you half-naked with my tongue down your throat? Besides, I'm pregnant and overflowing with hormones. All week when I've been in bed all alone … all I could do was think about you. And how I couldn't wait to get my hands on you. Believe me, I wanna."

He drops his head back, against the back of the couch, and chuckles. "Well, that's good to know. But what I was trying to ask is … do you want to go to the bedroom?"

"Oh. Sure." I extricate myself from his lap and stand up carefully. I start toward the bedroom, letting the open shirt and bra fall to the floor as I go. I've already pushed my pants over my hips and let them fall to the floor, too, when I turn around and find Carter stooping to pick them up. I see that he already has my other discarded items in his hands. Now shouldn't he be more worried about taking off his clothes than picking up mine? "What are you doing?"

"You're making a mess."

"So?" I ask with a laugh. Yeah, he can be a bit of a neat-nik, but not usually at a time like this.

"Well … what if you get up in the middle of the night to get a snack or go to the bathroom?"

"You lost me." I really have no idea why my potential nocturnal wanderings having anything at all to do with whether or not my clothes are strewn across the floor.

"If there's stuff all over the floor, you could trip and fall."

Is he serious? I look at his face. He's serious. It's all I can do to stifle my laughter. I take the clothing out of his hands and toss it over a nearby chair. Then I grab his hands and pull him to me. "You're cute."

"I am?" He looks a bit bewildered by my statement. Which just makes him look cuter.

I nod. "Uh-huh. You're very cute. And sweet."

"I am?"

I nod again, letting go of his hands and laying down on the bed, wriggling out of my panties. "But you're wearing way too many clothes. C'mon. Get naked."

He laughs, "That's what I love about you Abby: your subtleness."

"I like to think of it as being direct. Now would you take off your clothes? Please?"

"Well, since you asked nicely," he says with a grin as he starts unbuttoning his shirt. "At least you know what you want."

"Yeah, you."

"Well, I am very desirable." He slips the shirt off, tossing it on top of the pile of clothes accumulating on the chair. His pants, undershirt, and boxers soon follow.

"You're fast, too," I say as he settles down next to me on the bed.

"Mmm, not _always_." He dips his head down to my bare shoulder and starts a trail of kisses that moves toward my neck. He nuzzles my neck for a while before moving on, taking those kisses over my shoulder and across my chest as his hands lightly run up my sides.

I lay on my back, my head nestled into a nice soft pillow, my arms wrapped loosely around his body. I close my eyes, enjoying the feeling of his hands and lips on my skin. My body seems to fall into a state of complete relaxation. Strains of that John Mayer song run through my mind, "Your body is a wonderland … I'll use my hands … if you want love, we'll make it … swim in a deep sea of blankets …" I feel like I'm slipping into a sea, floating and drifting on waves of calming sensation. His soft touch and light feathery-kisses feel so good. I'm just so relaxed. So content. I feel a smile spread across my face … my hand is resting on the back of his head and my fingers dance through his hair, as he kisses his way over the swell of my belly. It feels so nice …

"Abby?"

"Hmm?"

"You have to wake up, babe."

"I'm awake," I say, struggling to open my eyes.

"Barely." He moves up to lay next to me, our heads on the same pillow.

"I guess you want me to reciprocate, huh?" I turn onto my side to face him, draping an arm over him.

"Well … at least participate."

"Gee, you expect a lot," I say facetiously.

"If you're too tired, Abby, we don't have to." He pushes a lock of hair back from my face and tucks it behind my ear, letting his hand slip down the length of my hair before it comes to rest lightly on my shoulder. "Maybe we should just go to sleep."

"I don't want to go to sleep."

"You could have fooled me," he says with a smile. "It's okay. Really. Maybe we'll wake up in a little while. Or tomorrow …"

"You're working," I remind him with a mumble.

"Yeah, but … I should be home early. Luka promised he'd come in when he could so I won't have to cover his whole shift. So we'll have the whole evening and the whole night …"

"No. I work tomorrow night." I do my best to stifle a yawn.

"Actually, you don't."

"What? Did I get fired in absentia?"

"No, you just got switched back to days."

"How did _that_ happen?" I ask, suddenly much more awake.

"Oh, I don't know." He puts on his best innocent face. "Maybe … I just happened to mention to Weaver how tough it is for you to work all night these days. And maybe she just happened to mention that to the nursing supervisor. You know, it must have been something like that."

"You did that for me?" I ask, bringing a hand up to his cheek. "Thank you." I lean forward and give him a little kiss. Slipping my other hand under his body and finding a different cheek to rest it on.

"Ah, I did it as much for me as I did it for you. I missed you way too much this week. I couldn't stand the thought of it going on any longer. Besides, it's better for you and the baby to be on a set schedule."

"So you did it for the baby?" I ask as I push myself up onto my knees.

"Well, I told you, I did it for myself. And for my girls." He rolls onto his back next to me, giving me a chance to throw one leg over his body, straddling his waist.

"You're looking out for us."

"Well, that's my job."

"'Cause you're the daddy?"

"Uh-huh."

"And I can't look out for myself?"

"That's not what I meant." I think he can tells by my tone that I'm just teasing him. "Although, I'll admit, I'd be perfectly happy if you just didn't work at all."

"Oh, and what? Spend my days lying around stuffing my face?"

"No. But you've got quite an important fulltime job now." Funny how he seems to be petting the belly again. "So if there ever comes a day when it's just too much, and you just want to stay home …"

"And … pay the bills with what money?"

"Abby," he says in a tone of voice that suggests that I'm being ridiculous.

"Ohh … you'd pay my bills, and I'd be a kept woman."

"I was thinking more along the lines of I'd be supporting my family, and you'd be doing the most important job there is -- taking care of our baby." I'm just about to fire off some sort of snotty response and take him up on that whole 'let's just go to sleep' thing when he seems to sense my annoyance and wraps his hands lightly around my wrists, effectively keeping me pinned on top of him as he speaks again, "But Abby? Only if that's what you want. I'm not saying that's what I think you should do. Or what I want you to do. I just want you to know that it's an option."

"Oh," I say, relaxing my body and getting comfortable once again, no longer thinking about rolling off of and away from him. "Well, as long as it's just an _option_."

"Of course." He runs his hands up my back, pulling me down closer to him. "I would never try to make you do something you don't want to do."

"Oh really?" I look down pointedly at the roundness between us.

"Well, that was different."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. I knew you really wanted it. You just didn't know it."

"Hmm …" I turn my head to the side and snuggle against his chest.

"What? I'm right, aren't I? Don't try to tell me you don't want this. I hear how you talk to her when you think I can't hear you."

"Of course I want it. I wanted it then … I just didn't think it was possible."

"Anything is possible. There's always a way … if you want it enough. No matter how daunting something seems, if you want it more than anything … so badly that you can practically taste it … "

He kinda trails off, his voice sounding soft and full of sentiment. I know he's thinking about the baby, how much he wanted it, and how close we … I came to ending it all and how glad we both are that I couldn't go through with it. I'm grateful for that every single day, and I know he is, too. I can feel tears threatening to boil to the surface. Okay, enough of all this mushy emotion. Things are supposed to be hot and sweaty about now … not warm and fuzzy.

I push myself up away from him, then look down at him and give him a wicked little smile. "You mean … the way that I want you right now?"

He looks into my eyes, and I watch his expression change from wistful to lustful.

His hands slip up my legs and come to rest on my hips. I trail a finger along his shoulder and down his chest, doing a little exploration of his pecs and abs, before finding my way back to his sensitive little nipples. After tossing my head to get my hair out the way, I lean down and attack his neck once again. Eventually letting my lips follow the trail laid by my fingers. He's slowly and sensuously trailing his hands up over my butt and along my back. He slips his hands along my side, inadvertently tickling me and causing me to giggle around the nipple that I've sucked into my mouth. He manages to find his way to my breasts where he begins to fondle and caress their fullness. His fingers trace lazy patterns around my sensitive flesh, finally landing on the already taut nipples.

"Ohh," I moan slowly, as I arch my back and grind my pelvis against him. His previous ministrations had managed to arouse me quite nicely, even in my half-asleep state. So now the slightest touch seems to drive me crazy. Of course with all the pregnancy hormones coursing through my body, that's pretty much true all the time.

He abruptly moves his hands away from my boobs and back on to my hips, where he pushes me away slightly, shifting me back onto his legs. I'm momentarily confused when I realize that he's struggling to sit up, but as soon as he's achieved the position he wants, he takes my hand, encouraging me to move close to him. I sit up on my knees before him, draping my arms loosely over his shoulders. He starts a trail of kisses down at my collarbone, moving slowly over my chest and to my full orbs. His tongue lashes out at a nipple before quickly sucking it into his mouth. My back arches toward him as I wrap my arms around his head, holding him close .

I slide a hand down in between our bodies, caressing his chest as I move lower and lower until I find the object of my search … his hard shaft that now throbs in my hand.

"Please?" I ask.

"I'm ready whenever you are," he says, somewhat breathlessly.

I let go of him and put both my hands on his shoulders for support as I slowly lower my body. His hands on my waist help to steady me as I impale myself on him. We both let out a low moan as we are joined together.

I wrap my legs around him and he puts his arms around me, pulling me close.

"It's nice like this," I tell him.

"Mmm, I wanted to have you close."

I lean forward and find his lips, nibbling at the lower one gently, finally capturing it between my lips. I pull away and then go back for more, slipping my tongue into his slightly opened mouth. Our tongues mingle as our hands explore each other's backs. Ultimately, I end up holding his head, letting my fingers run through his soft hair while his hands resting back on my waist help to move me up and down on him. I rotate my hips and grind my pelvis into his. Our movements are languid … slow and sensual. In some ways, even with the sensation building and my arousal mounting, I feel like I'm still in that dream state I'd fallen into earlier. We move in harmony with each other over and over again, our bodies seeming to merge into one entity.

"Abby," he moans, running his hands through my hair, nuzzling his head into my neck. He finds a sensitive spot that sends a shiver through my body.

"Mmm," I sigh, as I wriggle my hips against him, relishing the feel of him inside of me, but knowing that it won't last much longer as we both are starting to need that release.

"Abby," he calls, his voice more frantic this time. His hands glide down my back and firmly grasp my ass. He begins lifting me up and down, the pace growing faster and faster.

"Oh, God. Oh, God. John." I mumble constantly as the pleasure grows and grows. With each downward stroke, he manages to hit just the right spot. And in my heightened state of sensitivity, it doesn't take long until I feel myself reach the brink of orgasm.

"_Oh!_" I cry out as the waves crash over me. As my muscles clench around him, he stops all movement. "Don't stop!" I gasp out, still desperately wanting and needing more. He starts moving again, helping me to move along his shaft while he thrusts up in me. As he gets closer, his hips rise higher off the bed, pushing his erection deeper and deeper. He seems to grow and swell inside of me as I feel another climax building.

"Faster, baby …" I mumble in his ear.

"Oh, Abby. Oh, God, I'm so close."

"Me, too. Don't stop. I'm almost … _uhh!_" I gasp as fireworks explode inside of me, fingers of pleasure spreading through my body. John is still moving desperately within me as my muscles clench against him. He holds me tightly in place as he fiercely pushes into me.

"Oh!" he calls as I feel one big thrust, followed by several small jerks that deposit his warm juice deep inside.

As the tension drains out of my body, I slump against him. Snuggling against his chest. After a moment he collapses back onto the pillows, putting me squarely on top of him, using him as my pillow.

"Ahh …" I sigh contently, enjoying being so close to him, the two of us wrapped around each other.

"Happy?" he asks.

"More like satisfied," I clarify.

"Oh," he says, rolling us over onto our sides. "Well, I'm happy."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." He brushes a lock of my hair back from my face. "I'm here with you. Home with you."

"Well, we're glad you're home."

"Have I mentioned yet today how much I love you?"

"No, I don't think so." I give him what I hope is a charming smile.

"Well then … I love you, Abby." He looks down at the belly between us. "And I love you, too, princess."

"We love you, too," I assure him.

"You tired?"

"Hmm, not anymore."

"Really? I thought for sure you'd be out like a light. You have been awake for more than 24 hours."

"Nope. I'm oddly energized now."

"So … what do you want to do?" I just leer at him in response. "You're gonna have to give me some time for that," he laughs. "So, in the meantime, what do you want to do?"

"Uh .. Hey, I got a good idea."

"Oh yeah?" He sounds intrigued.

"Yeah."

"So what's this brilliant idea?"

"You can give me a pedicure," I say, proffering a foot and wiggling the toes for his inspection.

"Why would I do that?"

"Because I asked you to?"

"But why would you want me to?"

"Well … because I can, for the moment, still see my toes. And I can see that they are in need of some attention. However, it's a little tough for me to reach them these days … what with the big belly and all."

"Your belly's not that big."

"Okay, I'll tape a volleyball to your stomach and see how easy it is for you to paint your toenails."

"I don't paint my toenails."

"John," I say, rolling my eyes.

"What?"

I heave a sigh. "I can't believe you're gonna make me do this."

"Do what?"

"Guilt trip. Okay, here goes."

"Uh-oh."

"I can't believe that I'm having your baby, and you won't even paint my toenails for me. I'm making you a baby, for God's sake, and you can't put some nail polish on for me."

"Okay, okay," he says, laughing. "I give up. I'll paint your toenails."

"Actually, I want a pedicure."

"What's the difference?"

"Well, a pedicure means a massage, lotion, filing, nail polish."

"Sounds complicated."

"I think you can handle it," I assure him.

"Hmm … is it gonna be an all naked pedicure?"

"If you want it to be," I say, leaning over the bed to the lower drawer in the nightstand to retrieve my nail stuff. "You kinky freak," I say under my breath.

"What was that?"

"I said, how about Passion Pink?" I wave the bottle at him.

"Well, I like the sound of that."

I get to spend the next twenty minutes having my feet pampered. A nice long massage for each foot and then Carter, who claims to never have done this kind of thing, did a great job on my nails. And I found the whole thing to be very relaxing. Oddly enough, as relaxed as I am, I still don't feel tired. I feel … hungry. Imagine that.

"Not bad," I tell him, inspecting the Passion Pink toenails. "Except you got some on my toe."

"Where?" he asks, skeptically, bending over to look.

"Right there on the little toe."

"That little spot? You're being kinda picky, aren't you?"

"I told you it wasn't bad. It's just not perfect."

"So I won't quit my day job."

"Too bad. I was hoping you would, and we could spend all of our days like this," I say, giving him a little peck on the lips before I carefully get out of bed.

"Doing naked pedicures in bed?"

"Well, the naked in bed part, anyway." Being careful of my newly-painted toes, I make my way to the chair and retrieve his shirt, pulling it on.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm gonna waddle out to the kitchen."

"You don't waddle."

"I will now." He looks at me, confused. "Because of my toes," I explain.

"Oh. You don't want to mess up my fine paint job."

"Something like that," I say over my shoulder as I go out to the kitchen to grab a midnight snack. On the way back to the bedroom, I walk by the couch and retrieve the bag of baby clothes so that I can finally show Carter the _baby_ stuff.

"Whatcha got?" he asks from the doorway of the bedroom. He reaches out to take the shopping bag.

"Baby clothes. Remember?"

"I meant your snack."

"Oh." I settle onto the bed and wait for him to join me. "Honey Nut Cheerios." I wave the box at him.

"Nutritious."

"The baby will like it. Babies like Cheerios."

"You really think babies _like_ Cheerios?"

"It's one of the first table foods they get."

"My point exactly. Who knows if they _like_ them. They don't get much choice."

"You always have to be right, don't you?" I stick my tongue out at him.

" Always? More like hardly ever. I know that you're always right."

"It's about time you finally figured that out."

"So am I finally gonna get to see your purchases?" he asks, turning to the bag and conveniently changing the subject.

"Well go ahead and look," I tell him as I shovel a handful of cereal in my mouth

He pulls the items out carefully, one by one, commenting on each of them. He's got quite a pile of sleepers and nightgowns and little outfits piled up when he comes to one of my favorites, a hooded sweater knitted with various shades of pink and lavender.

"Look at this little sweater." He lays it carefully over my belly. "It looks good," he pronounces. "It's so tiny. It looks like doll clothes."

"Princess clothes," I say.

"Oh … yeah. Princess clothes. Speaking of which, I do love all these little outfits with princess written right on them."

"The Princess Line. That's what Susan called it. Sounds like cruise ships to me."

"Well, they're adorable. And so perfect for our little princess."

"We thought you'd like them."

"Oh my God, look at these tiny little shoes," he says as he retrieves the last item from the bag and holds up a little pair of traditional white baby shoes, adorned with little pink bows. "I can't imagine anything with feet this small."

"Tiny little feet that are gonna walk all over you."

"Like mother, like daughter?"

"Well, I hope so."

"I hope she's just like you, too," he says.

"I meant … I hope it's a daughter. I mean … all these pink clothes. What would we do with them if we had a boy?"

"Dress him in pink?" he asks, as a joke I hope.

"That would go over well."

"He'll be … liberated."

"He'll be beat up."

"I didn't mean he'd have to wear pink clothes for the rest of his life."

"How about he doesn't wear pink clothes at all? We'll just have to buy new clothes if it's a boy."

"See? It's not so bad buying the baby stuff, is it?"

"Well, a few little outfits wasn't so bad. I'm still not sure where to start with all the other stuff."

"Don't worry about it. We've got plenty of time."

"Not that much time. And it's gonna go by so fast. I keep having this nightmare about bringing the baby home and not having a thing ready. And do you know where I always end up putting the baby?"

"Dresser drawer?"

"No. The oven. What do you think that means?" I ask with a big yawn that I'm not quite able to stifle.

"I think it means you should stop eating before bed." He takes the cereal box out of my hand and puts it on the nightstand next to him. He leans over and gives me a little kiss. "And I think that it's time for bed."

"We're already in bed," I point out.

"Fine. Then it's time to sleep. You look awfully tired."

"Yeah. Maybe that whole going an entire day without sleep … well, other than that little nap I had last night about this time … is starting to catch up to me," I say, as I lay down on my side, getting comfortable. "Time for me to get my beauty sleep."

"Not that you need it," he says, snuggling up with me under the covers.

"Nice ass kissing."

"I thought so."

"Good-night, John" I say, nuzzling my head into the crook of his neck.

He kisses the top my head and sighs happily. The last thing I hear as I drift of to sleep is him whispering, "Good-night, Abby. Good-night, princess. I love you."


End file.
